Archive of Our Own ^beta

Beto’s known Sam long enough, and loved him well enough to know exactly where to find him after his boyfriend’s come back from a family dinner in Kentucky. The tell-tale thwap of a fist against a punching bag is his first indication that Sam’s come home. The speed and strength behind each hit tells him how the trip must have gone 

When they were younger, before Sam had ever brought him home, Beto had enjoyed watching Sam like this. The long lines of him, the way his muscles had moved with each punch…but then he’d noticed the pattern. Sam would receive a letter from home, he’d disappear for a while to read it, and then later that night, Beto would find him like this. And once he’d noticed the pattern, it was harder to ignore the other things- the way that all of Sam’s muscles were coiled up for a fight, that the sounds he made with each blow were more sobs than a reminder to breathe. That the wetness on his cheeks was more than just sweat.

These days, now that Sam is free to visit home whenever he wants and now that they all have cell phones, Beto’s pieced together that it’s worse after Sam’s talked to his mother. Now, while Beto was by no means a regular at the Guthrie farmhouse, he was an expert in piecing Sam back together after a visit. 

He stands in the doorway and watches and waits. He waits until Sam’s punches slow, and his shoulders shake, and he slides to his knees with a sob. Only then does Beto step forward, treading heavy enough that Sam can hear him coming despite the padded floor. He kneels beside him, pulling the other man against his chest, resting his chin on the sweaty mop of Sam’s hair. When he’d first started this, Sam had tensed up and apologized, but now he goes half limp against him even arms and hands cling to him tightly. 

He still apologizes. 

“‘M sorry.” He mumbles against Beto’s shoulder. 

Beto sighs and pulls Sam closer, forcing the man into his lap. “Don’t. You know you have nothing to be sorry for.” 

“Yes I do.” Sam protests. If his boyfriend wasn’t in tears, Beto would tease him for whining. “I’m making you take care of me.” 

“I like doing that.” Beto says softly, careful not to sound like he’s chastising, not when Sam’s like this. “I just don’t understand why you go back there.” 

Sam sighs and picks his head up from Beto’s chest, wiping at his eyes angrily. “Because I love it. It’s home.” 

Beto sighs and holds Sam’s face in his hands, making the other man look at him. “Baby, don’t bullshit me.” 

“I do!” Sam groans, hands flying out and accidentally hitting Beto’s arms as he gestures. Then, much quieter, as if they still live with a team and not in Beto’s house. “...I do. Even if I know I shouldn’t.” 

They’ve had this argument before, when Beto had been asking Sam to punish him in some way for not realizing what everything with Lila had been. And Sam had kept his voice low and even and had told him that Beto was a kid , it wasn’t his fault…and had then muttered bitterly that at least he knew that Beto would never remind him of his mother. 

Lucinda Guthrie was a can of worms that Beto had only just begun to open, but he still knew they were rotten. Sam didn’t talk about her much, choosing instead to focus on his siblings. Hardly a day went by when Sam couldn’t tell him what any one of his siblings was up to, even those in Kentucky…that had been another argument. It had also led to a lot of what Beto really knew about Lucinda Guthrie. 

“You’re my boyfriend! Just because you acted like team dad back when we were on the New Mutants doesn’t mean you have to be their dad! They have a parent! Your mother is there!” 

“ Is she?! ” Sam had yelled. Angry. Mad then, like Beto had just asked him to repeat a two hour mission brief because he wasn’t listening. Which Beto had only done twice because sometimes it was fun to rile Sam up.

“Yes!” Beto had yelled back. “She lives there! She greets you everytime you go home! You call her Mama!” 

“And she approved of Lila! She sat back and watched while Joelle joined a cult! She told me she wouldn’t change a thing after she let my baby sister run off with a grown man in a cult! ” 

Beto remembers standing there shocked, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. And shocked too, when it becomes clear that the dam has broken and Sam isn’t finished. 

“She cast Jay out! She degrades Paige! She don’t know how to take care of my family without pickin’ an’ choosin’ when we’re allowed t’be children rather than our own fuckin’ parents! ” 

When Sam had finished he’d stood for a moment, panting hard with his face red. He looked close to tears when he whispered. “If I don’t do it, who will?” 

Beto hadn’t said much on the issue after that, but had been more…persistent about inviting Sam’s siblings over. But Sam still insisted on going to Kentucky. 

Today, like every other trip back home, Sam had taken off the nice clothes Beto had given him, throwing on some cheap, seemingly perpetually stained Walmart clothes and a pair of boots that made his feet look giant. The old jacket smells awful, despite the outrageous number of times they’ve laundered it, but Sam won’t get rid of it. Like the weight of responsibility on his shoulders- it had been Sam’s father’s before him. 

Beto sighs and pulls Sam closer, pressing a long kiss to his forehead. “Nobody will fault you for not going back.” 

“I will.” Sam says quickly, fingers grabbing and wrinkling the fabric of Beto’s shirt. “I have to go.” 

“Then let me help.” Beto implores for what feels like the hundredth time. “Baby, let me fix things, take some pressure off-” 

“No.” Sam snaps, like he does every time. And sometimes that’s the end of it, but, “it’s my responsibility-” 

“And you’re my responsibility! Because I love you!” Beto snaps back. “And I can help. Easily . So tell me how to spend my money and-” 

Sam’s crying again, Beto realizes suddenly. Guilt eats at him like a tapeworm, and each time they do this song and dance it grows another segment. He holds Sam tightly and buries his face in his lover’s neck. He can smell on him the lingering feelings of home. Sam always comes back smelling like pie crust, and bacon grease, and barn . It’s not a great combination.

“Sam…baby. I just want to help.” He whispers. “I don’t like seeing you hurt like this.” 

“I know.” Sam answers. “But I don’t know that you know how.” 

“So tell me!” Beto pleads. “I’ll give you my card-” 

“That’s the problem!” Sam complains. “Money won’t help.” 

Beto’s pretty sure that’s bullshit given that he’s been to the Guthrie house . “Sam-” 

“ Don’t . Okay? Don’t. I ain’t unique because I hadta drop outta school. I ain’t special cause I had to play daddy with too many goddamn mouths to feed. I ain’t a fuckin’ sob story cause Mama saw saw my groomer as a ticket out. That’s just life when yer poor! That’s pretty fuckin’ normal back home!” 

“So let me help-” 

“The money ain’t gonna make my Mama a mother.” Sam says harshly. “The money ain’t gonna bring Daddy back! The money ain’t gonna un-poison our dirt or make the warter run clear! The money ain’t gonna suddenly make ‘em all feel loved! But I can - I can love ‘em! I can be Daddy if I hafta, been doin’ it half my life.” 

“Then so can I!” Beto yells. “Because I love you, and they’re part of you! And you don’t have a monopoly on taking care of the people you love! So. Let. Me. Take. Care. Of. Them.” 

Sam deflates, tired. His voice is hoarse and Beto can’t quite tell if it’s from the crying or if he had another fight with his mother. “Come with me then. Next time.” 

“Okay.” Beto says, then, if only to try to get Sam to smile. “Do I have to dress like you too?” 

“If you don’t want made fun of.” Sam mumbles. His head is heavy on Beto’s shoulder, his eyes are tired. “You just gotta love ‘em like I do.” 

Beto’s not entirely sure he can do that. Sam’s kind of loving is so…all consuming. But he nods anyway, pressing more kisses over Sam’s face until his boyfriend laughs, soft and tired but a laugh.

“C’mon.” Beto says. “I’m gonna draw us a bath and you can tell me what nonsense the kids were up to today.” 

“Oh good.” Sam groans. “‘M sore all over.” 

“Hit the bag too hard?” Beto asks, pulling Sam up and wrapping an arm around him as they walk. 

“Fixed the roof with Jeb.” Sam corrects. “Also there was a raccoon nest.” 

“Is that good?” 

Sam drags a hand down his face and mutters. “Un-fucking-believable.” 

Beto isn’t…necessarily close with Sam’s siblings. He’s often reminded of this when the oldest of them come to visit. Sam, Jay, and Mel are out flying- Sam’s showing them the new garden stuff that Beto’s had installed and apparently that means leaving Paige inside with Beto. Which wouldn’t be a problem. If Paige wasn’t all the scariest parts of Sam intensified. 

“Sam says you’ll be helping around the farm.” She says. It doesn’t necessarily sound trusting and Beto tries to focus on finishing chopping the vegetables Sam had asked for for dinner tonight. 

“I told him I’d try my best.” He says, usually winning smile plastered to his face. It doesn’t seem to work on the oldest daughter. 

“They’re going to eat you alive.” She says, looking him over quickly.

“Who?” 

“The kids.” She says, smirking. “They get…antsy when Sam shares his attention with someone else at home.” 

“Explain?” He’s trying not to sound scared. It would be ridiculously un-sexy of him for Sam to find out that Beto’s scared of his little sister. 

“You’re what? Trying to play step-dad? Hoping we’ll all just like you because Sam does?” 

It’s exactly what he’s doing, but he does not like that she knows that. “I’m trying to help.” He says, perhaps a little annoyed. If that’s coming through it’s her fault. “He’s been…your mother-” 

“Is a world class bitch?” Paige finished with a sweet smile, the accent he loves so much on Sam coming out in full force. He’s not used to hearing it from her. “And if I’m flustering you, you are so not prepared for Jeb and Joelle.” 

“Those are-” 

“Not the twins.” Paige rolls her eyes. “Come on da Costa, we’re still playin’ on easy mode.” 

The worst part of it is that Beto knows she’s right. That he pays attention when Sam talks. Has a list of things all the siblings like and he often pulls the world’s worst acting gig of trying to convince Sam that he just happened to stumble across something that one of the kids might like while he was out. But he didn’t know them . Sam kept their pictures in his wallet, went back for the highschool homecoming game to watch Lewis play in the marching band, took Cissie prom dress shopping, went to as many of Liz’ college softball games as he could, went to comic-con with Jeb and carried all his merch, spent whole weekends with Joelle, let Melody dress him up in outfits he’d never let Beto put him in….he’d complained often that he’d spend more time with Paige and Jay if they’d let him. 

He sighs. “I know. I know. I know a lot about you…but I don’t know you.” 

“Now whose fault is that?” Paige says accusatory. “Ain’t like you haven’t known Sammy long enough.” 

“I know . Okay?” He snaps. “He only tells me that everytime he goes to Kentucky.” 

Paige looks at him like she’s studying him. Beto hates it. It reminds him entirely too much of how Sam had looked at him when he’d been dating Tabby. 

“You need to know that Sam has favorites.” Paige says. She’s leaning against his kitchen counter and hasn’t even offered to help cook. 

“No he doesn’t.” Beto says automatically. 

Paige laughs. “Oh God, you fell for his shit. He’ll say he doesn’t play favorites when he’s acting like Daddy, but he was our brother first.” 

Despite the laugh, she sounds bitter, and Beto thinks he might know why Paige and Jay don’t spend as much time with Sam as he’d like. He looks at her and for the first time thinks he’s probably seeing Paige and not a Sam 2.0…which was probably part of the problem to begin with. 

“Hey.” He says softly. “I’ll work on it with him… I also want him to stop being a dad all the time.” 

Paige snorts and bumps his shoulder with hers. “Y’know- you might just survive this after all.” 

“Very encouraging.” He says. “Thank you.” 

She then grins. “Y’know….I might be wore willing to help you for a price….” 

“Name it.” He says instantly. “My wallet’s in the bedroom-” 

She snorts. “I was just gonna make you join my D&D group, we had someone have to drop out due to scheduling.” 

“....does Sam do that with you?” Beto asks.

“No.” Paige says. “But if you do, I can help you with the problem kids.” 

“Is that not just Sam?” 

Paige laughs so hard she makes herself cough. “No…no….Jeb and Joelle will be so much worse than Sam’s ever been.” She grins, and he realizes that whatever she says next means she’s won. He’s not as upset about that as he thought he’d be. “Have we not mentioned that Jeb blew up a building during what may or may not have been attempted murder? And well, I’m sure Sam’s told you about Elle…” 

“ One condition.” Beto says. “You make me a list of whatever fancy game stuff you want.” 

Paige’s eyes light up. “Deal.” 

Paige, as it turns out, is a lot like him , and despite the frustration the rescheduling gives to his assistant, he does like hanging out with her and her nerd friends. Fantasy strategy is fun, and it’s nice to play with someone who’s willing to plan every last detail like Paige does. And Sam had been happy to hear that they were hanging out. He’d even suggested that they could host Paige’s game. 

Jay is much harder to win over, to the point that he talks to Sam about it. Which had not been part of the plan, at all. 

“I think he hates me.” Beto says, flopping dramatically onto the couch and turning to look at his boyfriend, pouting. 

“Join the club.” Sam says, lifting his head from his mission reports. He still does them with pen and paper , which Beto finds absolutely ridiculous - but Sam hates computers.

Beto frowns. “What?” 

Jay had spent almost half of the lunch Beto had taken him to talking about Sam . And more specifically about how Beto should leave him alone.

“Jay fights me about everytime I see him.” Sam says. “ Loudly blames me for all the bad shit in his life…you ever been yelled at by someone who can harmonize with ‘imself?”

“Well he told me that you’re too good for me and that I need to ‘stop buying your affection with money.’” Beto pouts, arms crossed over his chest. “You barely even let me buy you anything!” 

Sam laughs and pulls him close until Beto’s resting against his chest and Sam can kiss his forehead. “I think my lil’ brother’s given’ you the run around darlin’.” 

“Well I think he hates me.” 

“Y’can’t take Jay at face value like that.” Sam admonishes softly. “He’s jus’ protective…and he don’t take well to wealth and the only ex of mine he’s met is Lila…” 

“And I’m a few months younger than you!” Beto says, visibly upset. 

Sam presses another kiss to his head. “Again-’s the money .” 

Beto groans. “You know, most people who grow up in poverty want money.” 

“Beto, sweetheart.” Sam says patiently. “We’re redneck socialists. Not only do we think that nobody should have as much money as you, but we don’t trust anyone who does-” 

“You trust me!” Beto says indignant. “You tell me so all the time.” 

“I trust you in spite of the fact that yer richer than God.” Sam says matter of factly. “You done showed me you could be trusted and I know that you ain’t always had the money. Also - stop sayin’ I tell you that all the time like I’m walkin’ ‘round sayin’ it unprompted. You ask me if I trust you ‘bout twice a day.” 

“And you always say yes!” 

“Cause if I don’t you pout! And then you always drag me into some shit!” 

“But it’s fine because you love me.” 

Sam sighs fondly but still taps him on the thigh. “Yeah yeah….Jay might like you more after we spend time at the farm for Lewis and Cissie’s birthday.” 

Beto sighs and leans heavier against Sam. “If you say so.” 

Sam rolls his eyes and pulls him closer. “Oh, ‘bout the birthday- I ain’t cookin’ for that one, Jay is, so we don’t gotta be there so early….unless you’ll let me show you town some?” 

“The town that has exactly four businesses? Two of which you can’t enter without starting a fight?” 

Sam nods. “If we go for lunch I can get you the best barbecue of yer life, so long as you ain’t too picky ‘bout things like the owners havin’ all the licenses.” 

“Are you trying to give me food poisoning?” Beto says, sitting up and turning around to face Sam.

Sam laughs and kisses his nose. “No. I’m tryin’ to give you barbecue. My treat.” 

“You can guarantee this won’t make me shit my brains out?” 

“I can guarantee that if it does I can fistfight the owner and get our money back?” Sam offers after a moment’s consideration. 

“You’re trying to kill me and take my money.” Beto says, settling back against Sam’s chest and humming softly when his boyfriend kisses his temple. 

“You got me.” Sam teases. “The only problem is we ain’t married so the money wouldn’t go to me.” 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time Guthrie.” Beto says, yawning. “Can you put on Star Trek?” 

“Are you comin’ or not!?” Sam yells from the bottom of the stairs. 

“I’ll be down in a minute!” Beto yells back, messing with his hair in the bathroom mirror. 

Sam sighs. “Babe, you said that ten minutes ago! Yes those pants make yer butt look big, yer shirt brings out yer eyes, and we both know yer gonna muss up her hair half the night tryin’ t’be charming so quit fussin’ and get down here!” 

Beto stares into the mirror, brow furrowed. How dare Sam read him like that! Sam hadn’t even gotten ready , he’d just thrown on a cheap cotton Dolly Parton t-shirt and a ratty pair of jeans! He throws his wallet back into his pocket and then rushes down the stairs. “Happy now?” 

Sam is standing at the base of the stairs, bag of presents held in the crook of his elbow- he’s now topped the t-shirt with that gross old jacket that Beto can smell when Sam leans in for a kiss. “Very, you look handsome. Ready to go?” 

Beto sighs as if he hadn’t nearly stopped Sam from showering earlier to continue making out. “I guess so.” 

Sam laughs and wraps an arm around his shoulders tightly. “C’mon- we’ll wanna head through the portal and grab the truck from the farm.” 

“You should let me-” 

“If you try to replace Daddy’s truck with some new model that ain’t even good fer haulin’ shit I’m gonna hand you yer ass.” Sam says breezily. “We’re takin’ the truck.” 

“I didn’t know it was your dad’s.” Beto says softly, squeezing Sam’s hand. “Sorry.” 

Sam squeezes his hand back, tightly. “‘S alright. And the truck runs fine, Mel’s been managin’ the upkeep on it.” 

Sam keeps walking and then readjusts the bag on his arm. “Jesus, what did you put in this thing?” 

“Stuff for the twins.” Beto says. “Presents…a few other things.”

Sam looks at him with eyes that are both questioning and judgemental but Beto just smiles and knocks his hip into Sam’s leg. “Come on.” 

Walking through the portal to the Guthrie farm is too quick for Beto to really think about Sam’s attachment to a truck with rusted out floorboards that they haphazardly cover with sheets of plywood just because it had been his father’s. In their part of the superhero community people tend to throw around the phrase “daddy issues” like it’s candy at a parade. And sometimes it’s warranted (Scott, Legion, Warren, Bobby, Terry, Cable….). But Sam’s got…a whole other ballgame going on. 

This far out in the boonies, Sam just drops the present bag on the back porch, grabs the truck keys off a hook on the outside of the house and pulls Beto towards it. “C’mon, I promised you lunch.” 

The country drive is nice, it’s deep in the fall and the autumn leaves are gorgeous, there’s a slight chill in the air that makes the southern heat bearable, and Beto can breathe for a moment and just take in the fun of driving with Sam while country music plays on the truck radio. Beto’s pretty sure that Sam wouldn’t be quite so…persistent about keeping these things as shrines to his father if Lucinda was…decent. The more he’s gotten to know and like Paige the less he has come to consider Lucinda a decent human being. Sure, it’s easy to point at Sam and diagnose him with Daddy Issues tm - Beto was prone to tease him about it when he could tell Sam was in a mood where he could handle it. But he’s pretty sure that Sam’s mommy issues caused the daddy issues.

He’s pretty sure that Sam doesn’t even really consider Lucinda his mother anymore. More and more often these days he’s caught his boyfriend referring to her by her first name. It thrills him in a way that makes him feel sick. It feels wrong to wish for the downfall of Sam’s family structure, for Sam to break free from whatever conditioning from his youth makes him fall in line in this matriarchal family. But he wants what’s best for him, and he knows for a fact that this is not it . 

Cumberland is always an interesting experience. Sam seems different here, and Beto’s never sure if he likes it or not. His boyfriend’s hand never leaves his the entire walk through town, fingers twined together even if their height difference means that Sam’s hunching a bit as they walk. The stares they get in the street are more focused on Sam than on Beto or even on their clasped hands. They’re not pleasant, but Sam is in return. He smiles pleasantly and drawls polite greetings, calling people by name , asking about kids and grandkids, and Beto wants to scream, because something in Sam’s eyes is dead the whole time . 

He orders for Beto at the barbecue place. It’s a place, because Beto’s not even sure the structure constitutes a shack. The menu is painted onto a piece of plywood leaning against the counter, and the young woman working the counter leans over flirtatiously to talk to Sam. Beto’s not jealous, he knows Sam wouldn’t dream of it- but it still makes him antsy. Sam had spent most of their teenage years telling him what kind of life he’d wanted, and it had looked a lot more like this than their life now. 

“Hey Sammy.” She says. “What can I get ya?” 

“Hey Luanne.” He says pleasantly. “Can I get a rack of ribs, an’ two chipped sandwiches with the Worcestershire sauce, oh and tea of course.” 

She giggles at him, and Beto wants to scream. “Sure thing Sammy, who’s yer friend?” 

“Oh, Luanne is this Roberto, my boyfriend. Babe this is Luanne, we went to school together back when.” 

Luanne looks shocked, but quickly pulls herself together. “Oh, well it’s nice to see you bring ‘im home! We were all startin’ to worry after you, our age and not married.” 

Sam laughs and wraps his arm tightly around Beto. “Yeah well, you be sure to tell yer mother Sam Guthrie says you can wait long as you want to get hitched and see if she don’t stop buggin’ ya.” 

Luanne laughs. “Oh I’m sure yer mother will hear ‘bout it at prayer group too.”
“Kinda countin’ on it.” Sam shoots back. “What do I owe ya?” 

Food gets exchanged for money and then Sam ushers him over to a rickety looking picnic table that…based on the carvings in the wood has been around for at least twice as long as he and Sam have been alive. “So….marriage?” 

“Oh, folks out here get antsy if you ain’t married with at least two kids by twenty-five.” Sam says, rolling his eyes. “Luanne and I just poke fun at each other when I’m in town.” 

“Hmm.” Beto says, and then frowns when Sam kicks him under the table. 

“She ain’t into me. She’s just sweet.” Sam shakes his head, ignorant as always to the fact that he’s a tall drink of water. “Alright, we got all the sides, ribs, and sandwiches, so I don’t wanna hear you complain yer hungry after this.” 

“I do not-” 

“Two days ago you ate an entire large pizza by yerself and then told me you wanted some of mine.” Sam protests, laughter in his voice. “And there’s plenty food at the house, we canned just last month- so I don’ wanna hear it!” 

When Sam looks at him now, the warmth has returned to Sam’s eyes and the smile reaches his eyes. “Okay so what are you feeding me?” 

“Do you listen when I talk or do you just look at me and hope for the best?” Sam retorts with humor in his voice, sticking a fork in some coleslaw. 

“I know it’s barbecue, and these are ribs, but I don’t really know what’s really on my plate. I saw online that you people eat mutton.” 

Sam blinks at him in a manner that Beto would think was offense if he didn’t know Sam as intimately as he does. He’s being made fun of. Because of course he is. This is always how it goes when Sam gets him in Kentucky. “Excuse me? Those heathens in Western Kentucky might eat mutton but we don’t associate with them.” 

Beto can’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay. Point taken. I’m not in Western Kentucky.” 

“Eat yer sandwich.” Sam laughs in return. “Or try a rib.” 

Beto sticks his tongue out and then makes a shocked noise when Sam sticks a forkful of coleslaw into his mouth. “Oh, we’re bein’ that couple now?” 

“Don’ talk with yer mouthful.” Sam smirks, with barely contained laughter. Oh Beto is so going to get him back for that later. 

The barbecue is good, and Beto doesn’t even get listeria or anything so he supposes Sam’s allowed to have weird banter with the girl at the counter so long as it stays exactly how it is. 

The drive back to the farm is quiet save for the gentle crooning of Kitty Wells on the radio. Finally Beto speaks. “Do you wanna live out here?” 

“Oh fuck no.” Sam says, but his hands tighten on the steering wheel until his knuckles are white. Like admitting that scares him. “It’s just home.” 

“I don’t think the people here like you very much.” Beto says quietly. “Luanne notwithstanding.” 

Sam rolls his eyes again and turns to look at him sternly for a moment. Beto would be scared except there’s no other cars to be seen. “I have a reputation.” 

“For what? Being a boy scout?” 

“We couldn’t afford to do Boy Scouts.” Sam says quickly. “I have  reputation fer bein’ oh…how did Mamaw put it…’a feral spitfire.’” 

One of the first things Beto had ever learned about Sam was that he was quick to a fight. That he knew how to throw a punch. That he would and could punch someone hard enough to make you think he might kill them if he wasn’t careful. He knew that Sam reacted to pretty much any negative emotion with the urge to punch something. He just hadn’t realized that Sam had been like this before he’d met him. “Oh.” 

“I don’t make things easy on myself.” Sam says. “Or my family.” 

“The way I see it.” Beto says softly. “Is that you’re the only thing keeping them all together.” 

“You’ve met us.” Sam says. “You know that’s bout the hardest thing to make happen.”

Paige is lingering along the edge of the property when they pull back up at the farmhouse and Beto runs out of the truck to give her a hug. Sam grins just watching them, but Paige fixes Beto with a stare. “He’s doin’ the thing again isn’t he?” 

Beto nods and rolls his eyes. “I’m still working on it.” 

“Somehow I don’t think your self devised twelve-step program is working.” Paige whispers. 

“Shhhhh.” Beto hisses. “He’ll hear you.” 

Paige snorts a soft laugh but does quiet as Sam knocks on the door, leaving the present bag to Beto. 

Lucinda Guthrie opens the door and hauls Sam in for a hug that he doesn’t quite return, gushing about his return to the swarm of teenagers and young adults on the other side of the door. She doesn’t mention Paige. She barely mentions Beto. Sam’s soon swarmed by siblings, most of them take turns giving him a tight side hug but that’s because Joelle’s about plastered to his other side and doesn’t seem to be moving. 

“Is Jay here?” Paige asks. 

Jeb wraps her in a hug. “Yeah, in the kitchen. He’s fixin’ supper.” 

“Cool.” Paige says, glancing over to where Sam’s listening to something Joelle’s whispering to him with a concerned expression. “Sam’s boyfriend is here.” 

Jeb looks Beto up and down, studying. Before Beto can even really react, the boy turns around towards his brother. “Sammy!” 

Sam jolts a bit, clearly not expecting to be yelled at. “What?” 

“Does he pay you?” Jeb asks, jabbing a thumb in Beto’s direction. 

“NO!” Sam shouts. “He does not!” 

Beto rolls his eyes, and says loud enough for anyone in the room to hear him clearly. “He won’t let me. I’ve tried to give him an allowance.”
Sam’s nostrils flare a bit and Beto can hear the breath he takes to steady himself. “You ain’t helpin’ Beto.” 

Jeb turns around to face him again, eyes like flint. It takes Beto a moment to remember that Jeb never regained his powers. However, given that everything he’s heard about the kid suggests a temper almost worse than Sam’s- he’s not sure if the kid will punch him or not. 

“Oh, so yer tryin’ to pay him t’be with you?” 

“No!” Beto says automatically. “I just want him to be able to afford nice things!” 

Sam groans, this is a conversation they have often . “I already got you , how many more nice things do I need?” 

Liz and Paige scrunch their faces up in something almost like disgust…at least on Paige’s part he knows it’s because they’re being sappy. He doesn’t know Liz enough to say. 

“You like our coffee  maker!” Beto says, indignant. 

“Which you owned before I moved in!” Sam says, one arm still wrapped protectively around Joelle while the other gestures wildly. Something is going on there, and Beto can tell that whatever it is, Sam isn’t happy. 

“Yer livin’ together?” Lucinda asks, staring at her son. 

“Course we are.” Sam says, as if he can’t conceive of anything else. It makes Beto’s chest feel warm, how sure Sam is that they’re the right fit. 

“Y’ain’t married.” Lucinda says. 

For a brief, fleeting moment, Beto thinks about putting his foot in his mouth and saying “yet.” But while Sam might tolerate that around Cable….it probably won’t fly around Lucinda. 

Sam doesn’t even respond to his mother, instead pulling his little sister towards the couch so they can talk. Beto watches them warily. There’s something dangerous in the set of Sam’s spine, but he’s not worried for Joelle, it’s Sam he’s concerned about . 

Jeb moves to stand beside him and Beto nearly jumps, not having noticed him. “SO you really ain’t payin’ my brother?” 

“No. First of all, that’s not my thing, second of all- he barely lets me buy him presents let alone give him money. He bought our lunch today.” 

“You bought Paige stuff.” Jeb says after a long moment of consideration. 

“I traded things for information.” Beto says, trying hard to not sound too much like he’s correcting the young man. “I’d buy you guys stuff too but Sam won’t let me.” 

Jeb stares at him, studying, a lot like Paige. Beto readjusts his mental ranking of scariest Guthries. “Fine. But yer on thin ice.” 

“I haven’t even done anything?” Beto says, watching Jay walk away to go bother Jay in the kitchen. 

“Exactly.” Paige says, wrapping an affectionate arm around his shoulders. “Sam’s trust means nothing, we’ve seen his exes.” 

“Tabby isn’t that bad.” Beto replies automatically. 

“She wanted to change him.” Paige sasy. “He’s already changed enough on us.” 

Beto can’t really argue with that, so instead he tries to stay as pleasant as possible, despite Lucinda’s presence and Sam’s obviously souring mood. “So where are the twins?” 

“Out with friends.” Liz says. “They’ll be home soon.” 

Beto nods. “Cool…so is there somewhere I should put the stuff we got them…” 

Liz is calm and steady and shows him to the haphazard pile the presents are in. She also threatens to bash his knees in with a softball bat if he hurts Sam, but he honestly likes her all the more for it. 

The twins are dropped off by a group of teenagers, most of whom are riding in the back of a pick-up truck under a pile of blankets. Despite Beto being able to see them clearly out of the front windows, they run around to the back door to come inside. Cissie throws herself at Sam who makes a big dramatic show of groaning and “oof”-ing and pretending she’s grown since he last saw her despite both of them knowing that she hasn’t grown an inch in two years. 

“Hey pumpkin-” 

“Sammy.” She groans. “C’mon, I’m seventeen ! I ain’t a kid!” 

“Yer a baby .” He teases, messing up her hair. 

She laughs, pushing him away. “Fuck off, Sammy.” 

“ Cecelia. ” Lucinda snaps. 

“Oh she’s fine , Mama.” Sam drawls easily, pressing a kiss to his baby sister’s hairline as he stands up from the couch. 

Once standing he clasps Lewis on the shoulder and grins. “Hey sport.” 

“Oh my God.” The boy groans. “Jay! Make ‘im stop!” 

“I ain’t the boss of him!” Jay yells back. “Tell his boyfriend to do it!” 

“I am also not the boss of him.” Beto says, faux apologetically. He’s doing his best to appear unbothered but all he can think about is how nobody’s expected Lucinda to do anything. 

“Where’s Mel?” Cissie asks, looking to Sam.

“Runnin’ late as always.” He says, rolling his eyes fondly. “She’ll be here- wouldn’t miss it.” 

Mel arrives shortly after everyone’s sat down for dinner and rushes around the table, giving everyone a hug or kiss before wedging herself in between Beto and Liz on the bench.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “Got held up.” 

Sam fights back a laugh and reaches behind Beto to subtly fix her clearly bed-mussed hair while pretending to annoy her. 

Not for the first time, Beto feels cripplingly lonely compared to Sam. He can’t even remember the last time he spoke to his mother, and here Sam is with a group of people who have loved him their entire lives and have told him repeatedly that they want him around. Sam’s one of the only people to ever do that for him. 

Mel makes herself a plate and then apparently realizes for the first time that Beto is there. “Oh, hey Sam brought Roberto.” 

Liz snorts softly. “Observant much?” 

“Oh can it.” Mel says. “I just ain’t used to Sam bringin’ him ‘round.” 

Beto glances over to Sam and his stomach flips uncomfortably when he sees a guilty, sheepish expression on his boyfriend’s face. The guilt eating at him upsets his stomach. He knows that Sam isn’t ashamed of him. He knows that. Sam had held his hand proudly in public, had introduced him to old classmates as his boyfriend, had brought him to meet his family. But seeing Sam look guilty about them makes him nervous. 

And it’s true. Sam usually doesn’t bring him home. He tends to plan these things around Beto’s business meetings or just says “hey, I’ll be out on Wednesday, prolly home late.” And Beto knows but he doesn’t question. Sam usually tells him what went wrong at home in his own time. But Beto hadn’t thought to ask if Sam’s family questioned. He should have known they would. 

Perhaps sensing his discomfort, Paige shifts in her seat. “Now that isn’t fair. Beto’s really as busy as Sam says he is. Schedulin’ stuff with him is a nightmare.” 

Lucinda hums, judgemental. “Well then, I suppose oughta be grateful he took the time t’show up.” 

Beto clears his throat awkwardly. “I think we should focus on Cissie and Lewis.” 

Sam’s hand finds his thigh under the table and squeezes a message in morse code. ‘Thank you…I love you.’ 

Some of the tension releases from Betos’ chest, and he raises his eyes from his plate to look at the twins to offer them an uncomfortable apologetic smile, which is thankfully returned. 

With each question about Beto from Lucinda, and the tension from Sam indicating that the question has been long answered, Beto wants to hit something. A very Lucinda shaped something. Sam and Jay do a very impressive job of navigating the conversation back to non-Beto topics, but Lucinda’s judgement is palpable. 

Halfway through dinner, Jay’s eyes flit to the counter and then to his mother. “Mama, where’d you store the cake? I can go ahead and get slices cut.” 

Lucinda freezes, looking at him. “Wasn’t you makin’ it?” 

“No.” Jay says, and he sounds as tired as Beto feels. “In the groupchat, you said you’d make cake.” 

“No. I didn’t.” She says slowly, firmly. “You said you was handlin’ the party. That includes cake.”

Almost instantly, all eyes in the family turn to Sam , and in a sudden flash of understanding Beto realizes why Sam had always been frustrated when Beto said he was jealous of him. 

“‘S alright.” Sam says, slow and even and with almost no emotion in his voice at all. “...I can whip somethin’ up quick. I’m ‘bout finished eatin’ anyhow.” 

Half of Sam’s plate is still full. 

Beto shakes his head. “Baby no. We brought a cake.” 

Sam frowns. “No. We didn’t.” 

“Yes we did. It’s at the bottom of the bag, under the presents.” 

“Is that what you snuck in there that made it so heavy?” Sam asks, staring at him with raised eyebrows, eyes coming back to life and a barely perceptible smile tugging at his lips. 

“There’s a lot of you!” Beto says, defending his decision to buy one in the event that Sam’s mother failed with a white lie. “I wanted to make sure there was enough!” 

Sam coughs out a laugh, awkward but fond. “Freak.” 

“Your freak.” Beto replies automatically, which only makes Sam laugh harder. Beto stands and rubs Sam’s shoulders and presses a kiss to his temple as she moves past him out to the other room to get the cake. 

Jay silently stands to join him, and then once the younger man is sure they’re out of earshot of both Sam and Lucinda, whispers a harsh. “What are you tryin’ to do? Show us up?” 

“No.” Beto whispers back, digging through the packages that Sam had wrapped with surgical precision until he can pull out the cake box. “Sam told me that your mother wanted to make the cake, and I. Don’t. Trust. Her. So I bought one just in case and figured that if it wasn’t needed we could take it home, or I could claim that I forgot to ask Sam to tell you guys that I wanted to get a cake or something .” 

Jay looks at him for a long moment. “That box is awful fancy.” 

“I ordered it from the place that my company uses for catering.” Beto says awkwardly. “Sam has their favorite flavors up on the fridge so it was easy to order.” 

“All this for what ?” Jay asks. “You’ve never come round before-” 

“ Sam didn’t invite me .” Beto hisses. “And I’m starting to see why because if he has to punch things after a conversation with your mother I might have to set things on fire. Can we please get this cake cut and celebrate the twins now? Thanks.” 

Jay smiles then, something small and smug. “You can stay.” 

“I wasn’t aware you were in charge of that.” Beto huffs, carefully removing the cake from the box. 

“Well…I’m the first one he started thinkin’ of as more of a son n’ less of a brother.” Jay says, mumbling some to obscure his words from the family behind them. Seriously, how did they all regularly fit in this kitchen? How was the stove big enough to have cooked for eleven people at once?

“I’m working on that too.” Beto whispers. “Can you pass me a knife?” 

Jay huffs a laugh. “Good luck with that.” 

“I’m serious.” He says. “It isn’t fair to him or you.” 

Jay blinks a bit in surprise as he hands over the knife, quickly busying himself with getting plates for the cake. “If you do anythin’-” 

“He’ll leave me before I ever get the idea to break his heart.” Beto whispers quickly. “I haven’t been pining after your brother since I met him to give him up now.” 

Jay looks at him incredulously. “Oh…Paige was wrong….you are as stupid as we assumed someone dating Sam would be.” 

“Keep that up and I’m not getting you anything good for Christmas.” Beto says with raised eyebrows, counting the pieces of cake to make sure there’s enough for everyone and that the twins get the biggest pieces. 

Jay snorts. “You sound like Daddy….don’t tell Sam I said that.” 

“Secret’s safe with me.” Beto mumbles, grabbing plates and starting to pass out slices now that the family’s nearly finished eating. 

Lucinda looks at him when he sits back down next to Sam. “Sammy didn’t tell me you bake.” 

“I don’t.” Beto says. “I bought the cake.” 

“Didn’t have time?” Lucinda asks, faux pleasant in a way that makes Beto bristle. 

Sam’s hand settles over his thigh again, gentle pressure that keeps him both seated and grounded. Beto’s sure he’ll snap, but Sam doesn’t even say anything, just stews in his obvious frustration. 

The sun’s going down in the window when Sam stands up, gathering plates as he goes to head towards the sink.
“I’ll help-” 

“Yer a guest.” Sam says with a tense smile. “Go have fun with the party, I’ll be out in a bit.” 

Beto swallows a sigh and settles back on the bench, blinking rapidly when Lewis kicks him from across the table. 

“We’re lookin’ to have a bonfire if you’ve got a start?” 

It’s a lifeline away from this table and Lucinda’s stare and Beto takes it immediately. “Yeah, of course. Show me the way?” 

It takes not even a second for him to light the fire, and he revels in the way the twins’ eyes light up. 

“Sick.” Lewis says with a grin. “C’mon. Sit. Mama ain’t likely to come out for this.” 

“No?” 

“Not when Sam’s in a mood like that…he don’t like to argue on birthdays, and he will make it her problem.” Cissie says, patting the blanket next to her. “The others’ll be out soon, prolly gathering the presents that we ain’t supposed to know exist yet.” 

Part of him is surprised that Sam stands up to Lucinda at all but he doesn’t voice that, just hums softly. 

“You didn’t have to buy us a cake.” Cissie says. “Wouldn’t be the first time since Sam left we didn’t have one.” 

“Why’d you do it anyway?” Lewis asks. “You’ve met us like….four times.” 

“Birthdays should have cakes.” Beto says. 

Joelle plops down next to him, and he realizes maybe a little late that he’s going to be surrounded by siblings before Sam finishes washing enough dishes for eleven people . “What you mean is that you don’t trust Mama.” 

“I didn’t say that.” Beto says automatically. 

Joelle snorts. “Didn’t say you was alone in that did I?” 

Cissie raises her eyebrows but doesn’t comment on that. “Jeb tryin’ to carry ‘em all himself?” 

“Yeah.” Joelle says. “Liz and Jay are arguin’ with ‘im ‘bout it. Sam’s had to yell for ‘em to hush up twice now.” 

Lewis groans. “I’ll get ‘em.” 

Cissie looks between Beto and Joelle and then stands along after her twin. “Me too!” 

“Ominous.” Beto mumbles, startling Joelle into laughter. 

“Oh c’mon.” She says. “I ain’t half as ominous as Jay and Sam.” 

“I don’t know.” Beto says, intentionally detached sounding. “Pretty ominous when Sam has to drag you aside to whisper on the couch when we first show up.” 

“Brother-datin’ bastards ain’t supposed to be perceptive.” Joelle grumbles, eyes going wide when she realizes he’s heard her. “ Fuck - sorry-” 

Beto laughs, full bellied and loud. “You’re fine . Paige told me you were the most like Sam but I don’t think I put it together until just then…but for the record my parents were married.” 

That startles a laugh out of her and soon enough they’re just giggling at each other.

Joelle stops first, drawing her knees up to her chest as she stretches her arms out towards the fire. “I used to hate you.” 

“I think this is the longest conversation we’ve ever had so I can’t imagine why.” Beto says. “Unless that is why in which case….my bad?” 

She rolls her eyes. “No. You - all of Sam’s letters were about you . All I wanted was for him to come home to stay and you….I thought you were why he wouldn’t.” 

“If it makes you feel better I used to think that you guys were why he wouldn’t date me.” Beto says. “Then found out it was just internalized homophobia…which actually may still be your mother’s fault. I refuse to talk to her long enough to find out.” 

Joelle snorts. “Yeah…Mama ain’t great ‘bout a lot of stuff….lotsa stuff we can only talk to Sammy about.” 

“You could talk to me too…if you wanted…” Beto says awkwardly. He feels like he’s trying to coax a feral cat into accepting affection. He really needs to stop thinking about the Guthries like that, even if Jay did fight like one. 

“Do I hafta?” She asks. 

“No.” Beto says. “But unlike Sam I can provide you with retail therapy.” 

Joelle looks at him, disbelieving. “Oh yer worse than he said you were ‘bout that.” 

“About what?” 

“The money thing.” Joelle says. “I don’t need stuff. Don’t got nowhere to put it.” 

“....You could keep it at Sam and I’s place…there’s plenty of rooms, you could have your own…visit whenever…I know Sam would like that.” 

“We just stress him out.” Joelle whispers. “Wouldn’t do any good.” 

“And what if I was just using him as an excuse to invite you over.” 

“Then yer fuckin’ weird and I ain’t goin’ even harder.” Joelle says. 

Beto sighs. “I’m bad at this.” 

“What?”
“Family.” Beto says softly. “Didn’t really have much of one when I was a kid…no siblings…” 

“Well ‘bout the only one of us that is good at family is Sam, and it’s killin’ him slowly so maybe reconsider yer life choices.” Joelle says, she looks behind him and then nudges him. “Look alive- here come the rest with the presents.” 

Beto thanks her quietly for the heads up and turns to face the others with a smile, running his hand through his hair just like Sam had predicted he would. 

It’s interesting to see how the siblings break themselves up. Jeb is practically plastered to Paige’s side, Liz and Mel squished between him and Jay. Jay’s looking at the twins like they were his own kids, and from the way Sam’s explained some things…that might not be all that far off. 

Strong arms wrap around his middle and he makes a soft noise of indignation as Sam’s still damp hands drag him back against his boyfriend’s chest, the man’s long legs bracketing around him as his boyfriend has the audacity to rest his entire weight on Beto. “Miss me?” 

“They were bullying me.” Beto mumbles. 

“Poor baby.” Sam laughs. “You’ll live.” 

“Are we allowed to look now?” Lewis asks. “Pretend we’re surprised as if there’s anywhere to hide things in this fuckin’ house?” 

“Hey!” Sam says, shaking with fond laughter. “At least you’ll be surprised by what the oldest of us got you.” 

“Sam.” Cissie says, oh so patient, and oh so put-upon. “You always get us exactly what we ask for on the list. It’s not a surprise.” 

Beto points, nodding enthusiastically. “ Thank you . He says he doesn’t but I know better .” 

“Paige does the same thing.” Jay teases. 

“I do not!”  She protests, kicking at her brother despite the fact that her feet can’t reach. 

“Yes you do.” Jeb laughs. “You lost this year’s list and got me the same exact comics you got me last year!” 

Paige tackles him to the ground and Sam sighs when Jay and Liz have to lean forward to tug the two of them away from the fire. 

“You’ll at least be surprised by what I got you.” Beto says, trying to bite down the nervousness he feels. Yeah….maybe this was why Sam didn’t invite him to family things. How was it that he could win over Sam so easily but the siblings wouldn’t budge.

Lewis looks at him and gives an awkward smile. “We’ll see.” 

Yeah…they didn’t like him. He was making things weird. He shouldn’t have come. 

Almost as if he can read his mind, Sam holds him tighter and leans his head against his. He’s watching the younger ones like a proud parent, and really that’s…how this has felt the whole time. Like Sam’s a single dad trying to introduce his new boyfriend to the kids, and Beto is the guy who’s barely been around but has been taking up all his time. And to make matters worse they all seem to think he made Sam into a sugar baby…as if their brother would ever go for that. Honestly. Kids these days. 

He hated it when his inner voice started sounding like Sam. That was never a good sign. 

Cissie and Lewis are so incredibly good natured and kind and funny, that it almost makes him forget that he’s intruding on family time. Cissie even hugs him when she opens her present and makes a point to push Sam out of the way until he falls backwards against the damp grass to make sure he knows she means it for him. 

Lewis’ smile turns genuine when he opens his. It had just been an envelope, but inside had been a promise to take him shopping for a professional grade instrument. “Are you serious? Do you even know anything about trombones?” 

“Well, not right now .” Beto says. “But I can learn. And Sam says you want to go to a conservatory right? You’re gonna need an instrument that can keep up with that.” 

“...Maybe I should be in charge of the trombone shopping.” Lewis says. 

“That’s fair.” Beto says. “Just…let me know what stores you want to go to. Anywhere in the world. I’ll make it happen.” 

Lewis looks at him like he doesn’t quite believe him but that’s okay. He’ll have to face the reality of Beto’s generosity when the time comes. “Thanks.” 

The kids slowly file back inside, with Paige, Jay, and Mel giving far too many hugs to be reasonable as they say their goodbyes...interestingly each of them leaves without heading inside to tell Lucinda goodbye. 

Beto leans back against Sam and breathes in the warm woodsmoke. “They hate me.” 

“You made a good impression.” Sam says softly. “Don’t listen to that voice in yer head. You did great.” 

“Joelle hates me.” 

“Ellie hates everyone.” Sam says. “She’s…got some shit goin’ on right now. Don’t let it get to you.” 

Beto frowns and turns around in Sam’s arms. “Is she okay? She seemed…not good when we got here.” 

Sam sighs. “Yeah…jus’ - if yer willin’ to wait up a bit I might hafta take care of somethin’ before I go home.” 

“Absolutely not.” Beto says. “If you’re going I’m going with you.” 

Sam freezes and that kind of fills Beto with dread. “I…don’ know that you’ll wanna see me like that.” 

“Like what Sam?” Beto says, fixing him with a hard stare and trying to ignore the way that the firelight dancing off of Sam’s features makes him look haunted. Ignoring how the night shadows accentuate the hollow of his eyes and the hard lines of his face. “What are you going to do?” 

“That bastard who hurt Elle’s back in town.” Sam says quietly. “Apparently been hangin’ round her work.” 

Beto freezes. “Is he-” 

“She keeps ignorin’ him hopin’ he’ll go away but…anyway I told her I’d take care of it.” 

“ We’re taking care of it.” Beto says.

Sam’s face softens and he kisses Beto softly. “We’re takin’ care of it.” He agrees. 

Beto hates Cumberland even more at night. This is so much worse and more depressing than it was during the day. No wonder Sam is so messed up. There is no joy here and Lucinda Guthrie lives here? Horrible. 

Sam doesn’t even struggle to navigate the dark woods. Puts one foot after another, treading softly, like a hunter before dawn. Beto follows, trying his best to mimic Sam’s footfall. He feels like they’re being watched, but he can’t tell from which direction. There’s nobody out here, no Sentinels to hunt them, no enemies to follow them- only Sam and his prey. 

Despite what Sam had said about both of them taking care of it, he’d become so single minded on this mission that he’d barely listened to Beto and followed along with his concerns. This is a personal kind of anger and hurt…and Beto knows on some level…that Sam’s planning to hurt this guy because he can’t bring himself to hurt his mother. 

Preacher is incredibly easy to find in the woods, settled into a tent in the woods illuminated by the pale moon and a small campfire. “Who-” 

Sam doesn’t let him finish his thought. He storms over, picks up the man by the collar of his shirt and shoves him hard against a tree. “Shut up.” 

The flickering shadow that Sam casts looms large against the trees in the dark woods. The fire illuminates a dangerous glint in his eye that Beto’s only seen a handful of times. Sam doesn’t even really seem to remember that Beto is there, he’s whispering some low threat to the man that makes him soil himself. And then the struggling begins, bargaining. 

“Please, please- lemme go- I jus’-” 

“I. Don’t. Care.” Sam says slow and even and mean . He punches Preacher with the hand not holding the man against the tree. Beto hears a crack and the man screams. 

But they’re far enough out that nobody can hear it. Nobody but them at least. 

If a predator falls in the forest, but nobody’s there to hear it, does it still make a sound? 

Sam grabs him by the throat, cutting off the sound and slamming him back against the tree, a burst of power around his hands putting light on the situation and showing a wetness on Sam’s cheeks that’s familiar. There’s a crack, and Beto can’t immediately tell if it’s the tree or the man as Preacher goes limp in Sam’s grasp. Sam slams him against the tree three more times, each time increasing the amount of power behind it until the tree topples and Sam drops him.

Sam sobs in the silence that follows until his tear-blurred eyes find his target again and he drops to the ground. Beto rushes forward stopping in between him and a man they both hate the idea of, one hand grabbing Sam’s raised fist to stop him.

“Sam, it’s okay. It’s over. He’s done.” He says, voice thick with something that isn’t fear but isn’t acceptance. Was this what Sam was picturing when he hit the punching bag at home?

“He-” Sam pants. “He-” 

“Shhhh.” Beto says, standing awkwardly and pulling Sam with him. They make it to the other side of the clearing before Sam collapses again, pulling Beto down with him. 

“He- he hurt Ellie.” Sam whispers tearfully. “He hurt my baby.” 

“I know.” Beto says softly, gathering Sam into his arms. He was an expert in piecing Sam back together. He rests his chin on top of Sam’s hair and rubs his back. “I know, baby. I know he did.” 

Sam goes limp in his arms, heaving with sobs, slobber and snot mucking up Beto’s nice dress shirt. “‘M sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Beto says. It’s not. None of this is okay. The fact that Sam had to experience that and then watch Joelle go through it isn’t okay. The fact that Sam thought of Joelle as his baby wasn't okay. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.” 

Sam clings to him, he’s shaking like a leaf, but not from the cold. “Is he-” 

Beto looks across the clearing, watching Preacher for a long moment. “He’s-” probably not going to make it. “Still breathing.” 

Sam sighs shakily. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Beto repeats. 

Sam shakes his head. “‘M making you take care of me again.” 

“Baby,” Beto says so softly, brushing Sam’s hair out of his face so he can kiss his forehead. “I like taking care of you.” 

It just makes Sam sob harder and Beto pulls him fully into his lap, rubbing his back gently. He presses his lips to Sam’s hairline and then sings softly. “ Se essa rua,se essa rua fosse minha eu mandava, eu mandava ladrilhar com pedrinhas, com pedrinhas de brilhante. Só pra ver, só pra ver meu bem passar. Nessa rua, nessa rua tem um bosque que se chama, que se chama solidão. Dentro dele, dentro dele mora um anjo que roubou, que roubou meu coração. Se eu roubei, se eu roubei teu coração - tu roubaste, tu roubaste o meu também. Se eu roubei, se eu roubei teu coração. Foi porque, só porque te quero bem. ” 

 As he sings, Sam’s breathing slows and he though he’s still sniffling, his eyes have dried some. Beto wipes the remaining tears away with a swipe of his thumbs and holds Sam’s face in his hands. “Let’s go home, Sam.” 

Sam buries his face in Beto’s neck for a moment. “Why were you singin’ ‘bout….pebbles n’ hearts? There was pebbles right? Pedrinhas? Pebbles?” 

“Pebbles.” Beto confirms, soft and near tears himself. Sam had to stop surprising him like this. “It was a song my mom used to sing when I was little…”

Sam hugs him tight enough to bruise and Beto tries not to think about the fact that the man who holds him so gently has just used those hands to most likely kill a man. That prickling feeling that they’re being watched is back. He wants to get out of here. 

“Can we go home?” 

“Yeah.” Sam whispers. “Please?” 

“You flying us back to the portal or are we walking all that way back?” Beto asks softly.

“I’ll fly.” Sam says. “I want a bath and bed.” 

“I spoil you.” Beto says, hoping his voice isn’t shaking. 

“I know.” Sam says. “I don’t deserve it.” 

Beto doesn’t let Sam go to work for a week. Hell, he doesn’t let himself go to work for a week after that. But they don’t…talk about it. 

He doesn’t know how, and Sam won’t . 

Beto watches him quietly while Sam is cooking dinner, he’s watching his hands. Beto knows every scar and bump on them, as a teenager had marvelled at the fact that Sam seemed battlescarred before they’d ever seen battle. He knows better now. Sam had. 

“You’re starin’ again.” Sam says. “You gonna come out n’ say it or we gonna play charades or somethin’?” 

“You’ve been on the phone a lot the last few days.” He says lamely instead of talking about the issue. He wants to break down the walls of that goddamn house and figure out what taught Sam that he could be so gentle after breaking a man’s body like that.
“Yeah.” Sam says. He sounds tired. He hasn’t been sleeping well. Neither has Beto, the thwap of a fist against the punching bag has kept him awake. Sam hasn’t been letting him piece him back together, instead rejoining him in bed in the early morning hours and pressing his tear tracked face against his neck. “Been talkin’ to the family.” 

“Sam-” 

“Ellie asked for yer number.” Sam says. “Apparently she’s come round on you.” 

Beto freezes. “What?” 

“They…they actually all asked for yer number. I put it in the groupchat without Mama…figured you wouldn’t like that.” 

“Samuel.” He says. “What aren’t you telling me?” 

Sam puts the knife down before he speaks and Beto hates that, because he can hear the blade clatter against the counter as Sam’s hands shake before he puts it down. “They followed us .” 

Beto swallows hard and then lets out a shaky breath. “They what? ” 

“They followed us.” Sam repeats. “They saw- they saw what I did .” 

“Was Joelle-”

“She’d gone to bed.” Sam says. “Small miracles.” 

“So what now?” Beto says. “We pretend it didn’t happen? You stop letting me love you how you deserve? Your family likes me only when we’re falling apart?” 

Sam looks like he’s been shot. “I ain’t- I’m processin’ darlin’. I ain’t quittin’ you.” 

“Okay, gay cowboy from Night at the Museum .” Beto jokes but there’s no mirth in it. An impulse. Joking with Sam has always been easy, good for deflection. Now it just hurts. 

“I’m talkin’ to my therapist again.” Sam says. “Got an appointment booked for tomorrow.” 

“Oh.” 

Oh fuck . 

“Yeah.” Sam snarks. “Oh.” 

“I’m sorry.” Beto says. “I was- I was making it about me.” 

“Like this ain’t all been about me?” Sam asks. “Like I ain’t been a piss poor fuckin’ partner through all this shit?” 

“You’re not-” 

“ Don’t lie to me. ” Sam says firmly. “I was so caught up in my family shit that I didn’t- I wasn’t right to you. That’s on me. Okay? That’s on me. I never- I didn’t even thank you for the cake. Fer making Lewis smile like that for the first time in over a year…for gettin’ Paige to make a new friend for- I didn’t thank you for bein’- I didn’t thank you for bein’ you.” 

“Sam- “

“ Let me finish .” Sam snaps. He gets pushy like this sometimes, when he thinks Beto’s trying to avoid hearing genuine praise. “I know what you were tryin’ to do…it weren’t that hard t’figure out and neither you nor Jay can whisper that well. An’ I- well maybe I oughta accept yer help more.” 

“You’re just now figuring this out?” 

“Fuck off.” Sam says. “Or I ain’t invitin’ the kids over for supper.” 

“The kids?” 

“Trust me.” Sam says. “You don’ wanna see what the kids put yer name as in their phones.” 

Beto knocks him aside gently, taking the knife up to finish the prep work for dinner. “I’ll try to stop analyzing your childhood like a puzzle.” 

“So…’s now a bad time to tell you I’m kinda pissed off Daddy ain’t a ghost?” 

“Sam.” Beto sighs. “You can’t just say things like they make sense.” 

“That did make sense! I didn’t even use any regional specific slang!” 

Beto clears his throat and mumbles, “daddy issues,” under his breath. 

Sam grabs his wrist until he drops the knife safely on the counter and then tackles him to the kitchen floor. “Take it back.” 

“Never!” Beto says. “It’s a real and true observation!” 

“Roberto-”
“And I compared notes with Paige’s boyfriend-” 

“PAIGE HAS A BOYFRIEND?”

“Oh my God, Sam. Keep up, this is old news-” Beto doesn’t get to finish his thought because Sam interrupts him with a kiss, Beto melts into it. They haven’t been affectionate like this in days. 

When Sam pulls back he looks lighter, like Berto lit the match inside of him and now the light’s returned to his eyes. “Y’can’t accuse me of havin’ daddy issues if you ain’t analyzing my childhood like a puzzle.” 

“I don’t need to- I watched you interact with Cable.”

Sam retaliates by tickling his sides and Beto kicks him hard in the thigh. Not on purpose…but he also doesn’t regret it that much. They laugh like teenagers again, until they collapse on the cool tiled floor, dinner still unmade. 

“When did you start learning Portuguese?” 

“Too long ago t’be as bad at it as I am.” Sam says. “When did you decide you wanted to help me finish raisin’ my siblings?” 

“When I realized it was the only way you’d let me help.” Beto says. “...and when I realized that asking Cable to take me back in time to fix the shit that made you have to do all of that would mean that I wouldn’t get to love who you are now…so instead I have to do it your way for the little Sam I never got to meet…who wanted to be something different.” 

“I don’t think I ever knew I coulda been somethin’ different.” Sam says quietly. 

“What about now?” Beto asks, turning onto his side to look at him. “What about here and now?” 

Sam smiles softly at him. “Here and now? I think I could be pretty happy just lovin’ you.”