"You...have a sister?"

"Had," Michael whispered.

Micky couldn't form the words. He took Michael's hand, but it seemed his silence was enough.

"Her name was Patsy." Michael closed his eyes. "She was three years older than me. When I was sixteen, she got married to her high school sweetheart, Noah. They'd been dating since she was fourteen."

Micky watched him. For once, all his problems seemed to disappear as he became absorbed in Michael's story.

"Noah was an alright guy, though, considerin' our age difference we didn't hang out much. He had two parents and a sister, just like me. Only his sister was younger. I think she was eleven when her brother married. Eleven or twelve."

Michael choked up, but he kept going.

"A month after their honeymoon, Patsy and Noah decided to take Jessie—his sister—to a new diner that had just opened. Only they never made it. There was a...a car accident. And Jessie, she...was killed instantly."

Micky gasped.

Just like Sammy.

"Noah changed after that. He became a recluse and never came out of the room he shared with my sister. I spent nights with them a lot and I can remember them arguin'. And he...he hit her. He hit her a lot and I always saw the bruises in the mornin', but Patsy never said anythin'. She would leave the room when I tried to ask."

"Oh, Mike," Micky whispered.

"One night..." Michael squeezed his eyes shut. "One night, they had a bad argument. A real bad one. And he...he..."

Michael cried then, burying his face in his hands. Micky hesitantly scooted closer, wrapping his uninjured arm around Michael.

"He raped her!" Michael screamed then, making Micky jump. "He raped her a-and I di'n't do anythin' about it. H-He raped her and fled and she...she killed herself the next mornin'."

Micky gasped and lurched forward. He felt like he was going to be sick.

"I n-never trusted no relationships after that. Five years they'd been together. But you Micky, you were...you were d-different. But now the same damn thing that happened to my sister h-happened to y-you! And it's a-all...it's all my fuckin' fault!"

Micky sat forward as if in a daze.

"It's...It's my goddamn fault and I'm s-sorry," Michael croaked then, curling himself into a ball. The strong cowboy persona was long gone, leaving him stripped naked and exposed. "D-Don't leave me Micky, p-please. I know I'm a...a fuckin' bastard and you hate me, you hate me and you have every right, but I...I love you. I'd give up my own life for you to have everythin' back if I could."