The Bolt from the Blue (Working Title)

Chapter 24- Agony

Sam and Lucy stood awkwardly on the rooftop, staring at the door, as if it had the answers to what they should do next.

Lucy turned to Sam, "Will you follow him?"

"I think I have to."

"No, you don't. You're your own man." Her voice had just the right level of pathos to make this sound somehow profound. "You can do what you want."

Sam considered this for a second, "I want to help you, I do, but I can't let your sister know about my powers. I'm sorry."

"She's not a bad person!" Lucy protested and, astonishingly, she seemed to actually believe it. There was no doubt in her voice- this was an absolute truth.

"She killed someone; she threatened me."

"John threatened her." Lucy countered, looking disgusted at the thought.

Sam paused as he tried to articulate how this was different. "John thinks she's dangerous; Veronica just wanted to scare me."

"Veronica thinks John's dangerous and she saw you with him. She only wants to protect me."

"Is that why she killed Benji?" Sam didn't want to deploy this option- it felt underhanded somehow and didn't actually absolve John's guilt- but he was tired of arguing with a teenager.

"That was an accident." Again, there was not an iota of doubt in Lucy's voice; this was a bedrock of her world.

"Why did she have a gun if she didn't want to hurt anyone? I can't trust your sister Lucy, I'm sorry."

"Well, what if I tell her?" Here Lucy drew herself up to her full height- which was still extremely short, even compared to Sam- and lifted her nose high in the air, to try and display a willingness to ruin other peoples' lives.

"Please don't," Sam said, without urgency or panic, merely appealing to her better nature, "I'll find a way to help you without her, I promise."

"How?" Lucy asked, and it sounded like she was on the brink of tears.

"I'll guess," he answered simply and followed after John.

Three days passed, and neither John nor Sam mentioned the incident on the roof. It seemed to be John's firm policy that that evening had been spent solely on the hill and that they'd parted ways afterwards and Sam was still considering what Lucy had said and how to help her.

"I've got a therapy appointment tomorrow," John said out of the blue one night as they lay entangled in Sam's bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"How's that going?" Sam asked, his head resting on John's chest, his hands idly twiddling with his boyfriend's chest hair.

"I don't know, I don't remember what we talk about most of the time," John admitted, "But I always feel slightly more relaxed afterwards, so I guess something's going right."

Sam turned on his side, and propped his head up to look John in the eye, "Have you had any deep realisations about your psyche?" He kept his tone jovial but secretly prayed that maybe an epiphany would be reached wherein John could make some progress regarding Benji's death.

John shook his head. "But I get out of work, so..." John shrugged and smiled.

Sam was slightly disappointed by this answer. "Well, that's-" He faltered; he suddenly felt a searing sensation in his head, like a nest of wasps had just hatched in his brain. His mouth gaped open in a silent scream and he slammed his palm against his temple, as though trying to knock the pain out.

John sat up instantly. "Sam?"

Sam panted and tried to form words but he couldn't think through the burning- it was like spiky white noise being broadcast in place of his thoughts. He was sweating profusely and his body was tensing wildly- he flailed out with one of his arms and accidentally smacked John in the neck. He took a deep breath and managed to make a sound- a long, loud, sustained wail of agony. It echoed throughout the room, filing every corner with the cry of misery.