The Bolt from the Blue (Working Title)

Chapter 14- Revelations

Chapter 14- Revelations

Sam stood there, in John's embrace, in the middle of his kitchen, pressed tight against his chest, and laughed. He laughed out loud, shaking against John's torso and drawing in long, great breaths; it just sounded so ridiculous.

John let Sam go a little so he could look into his eyes, "Am I wrong?" He asked.

"No," Sam gasped, "No, you're right."

John stared down at him, expecting something else but all Sam could do was laugh more and harder, his body convulsing with laughter. He couldn't tell if it was relief or mania, but he couldn't stop himself.

"Are- are you ok?" John asked after a while.

Sam nodded. Eventually John got himself a glass of water and Sam was able to curb his hysteria. He wiped his eyes, full of tears born from trepidation, relief and oxygen starvation, and then looked at his boyfriend and began to realise just what had happened. John knew.

Fuck.

"I have to go," Sam said, putting the glass down firmly.

"But we're having such a laugh," John replied, a sly smile on his face.

"I'm sorry, but no one can know what I can do."

"Are you gonna kill me?" The same smile played on John's lips.

"I'm sorry," Sam said again, "but I can't see you again."

"Says who?"

"John, you don't understand how dangerous this is." He knew he sounded melodramatic- and John's maddening smile persisted- but he didn't know else to put it.

"So, explain." John folded his arms and leant back against the kitchen counter.

Sam put his hand to his head- he suddenly felt very tired. "If people find out, they'll want to exploit me."

"Ok, I won't tell anyone."

"That's- that's not enough." Sam protested, but even he thought he sounded unconvinced.

"I already know, Sam-"

"I shouldn't have let you find out. That was my mistake; I should've left you at the bar."

John looked hurt.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Sam added, but he could see the conversation wasn't going how he wanted.

"Look, I already know- you can't put that genie back in the bottle. So you might as well stay until I'm sick of you and then wipe my memory or kill me or whatever." John walked over to him and put his hand on Sam's shoulder, "Leaving won't make me forget."

Sam shook his head, "You can't live with someone like me."

"Sure I can."

"No, trust me." Sam shrugged John's hand off, "My power, it does things to people: it makes them paranoid and suddenly they need to know everything all the time. They use it to..." He stopped and a picture began to form in John's head of just what the people in Sam's life might have used his power for.

"Who else knows?" John asked, but he was pretty sure he already knew.

"My parents and my siblings; that's all." There was a moroseness to his voice that made John even more certain of what he suspected.

"You don't talk to them much, do you?"

Sam shook his head.

"That's got to be stressful, keeping it to yourself all the time."