it echoes through

twelve; harry's interlude

No less than five hours passed from the second Skyla Burns told Sam Holland she loved him, and already the pair were in her office–going over files and books and records of everything and anything to do with her side of the business. Sam was not used to the sheer volume of information in the limited time Skyla gave him, but he was too keen on proving himself to her, he wouldn't even take a break. Something about the way she kept smiling at him before saying, "two feels better than four, yeah?" made Sam even more eager to show her she made the right choice, that the ring fit his finger perfectly.

Sam was head deep in files, he didn't even have time to think about what it truly meant–sliding the red ring onto his pale, slightly freckled, skin. It didn't feel different, it weighed the same as his old one and Sam barely noticed the difference on his hand–but the more he looked at it, the stranger it felt to see a burning shade of red and not the powerful black he was used to. The more he looked at it, the more he realised his left hand was still bare–his blue ring had long since been forgotten in the month since he took it off. A few times Sam considered going out to a jewelers to get a new one–but then he noticed Skyla took her blue ring off, too, and so did Caitlyn, and maybe they didn't mean as much as he always thought they did. Perhaps he was being over dramatic about his blue ring, about all blue rings–perhaps he was being fed some bullshit from people who cared too much about symbols. Perhaps, well, perhaps he even moved on.

Sam constantly pushed that thought out of his brain, even when it was Y/N's voice saying it. Sam couldn't face those thoughts, couldn't bear to deal with them–and so he never did. He always found a line to do instead, or a drink to down, and Skyla was almost always close enough for him to kiss dramatically and let her lips evaporate any uncomfortable thoughts he had. If Jess was here now, Sam knew exactly what she would say. But she wasn't, nor was he ever going to say those words to himself–the ones that still sounded like her. No, this was his own mess and he was going to deal with it alone.

Skyla, however, had so so much mess–and she needed Sam to help her deal with it. At one point, even Harry came into the office to help sort through paperwork, and Sam noticed his black ring had been replaced, too.

The twins shared a look, one simple look between them–as they both noticed the change in colour at almost exactly the same time. Sam noticed Harry wasn't wearing a ring at all the second they picked him up from the prison, but Sam never commented on it until now.

He decided it must've been about being in a new town, one not accustomed to black and gold, and Harry simply did it to protect himself from unneeded controversy. Even as Sam said that to himself, he knew it wasn't the reason–Harry never gave two shits about who he annoyed with his presence and why. Sam decided he spent too much time around Clarissa.

And yet, the redness of the metal against his brother's finger didn't go unnoticed by him–and Sam caught himself staring at his twins' hands as his mind raced with questions. After a few more moments of working in silence, Skyla had excused herself–the twins following her movements with their eyes, moving together in sync. When the door closed behind her, Harry spoke up in a rush.

"So you said yes, so you're her right hand now?"

"Uh," Sam found himself stuttering, not expecting that kind of a reaction. He was scared of Tom finding out, sure, but more than that he didn't want to tell Harry right away–knowing his twin valued family above all else, valued Tom about all else. "Yeah, but–"

"Thank fuck," Harry chuckled in relief, running a hand through his curls once. "We were so stressed you would say no."

"We?" Sam pushed.

"Yeah, Caity had no faith in my plan."

"Your plan?" Sam repeated hesitatingly.

"Oh, well, see–the thing was–basically, it's a long one," Harry sighed.