© Copyright 2012
All work is property of Leah Crichton, any duplication or reproduction of all or part of the work without explicit permission by the author is illegal.

Alexa observed Lindy in the rear view mirror as Sawyer drove her car. “I'm sorry our girls day didn't really work out,” she said.

“It's alright,” Lindy replied. “The fact that you tried and you got Sadie to leave that stupid room is commendable. Plus I got to meet exactly fifty percent of Bach's Revenge, which, no offense is kind of better than your typical mani-pedi.”

Sawyer didn't offer any response at all, so Alexa placed her hand on his knee. “Hey,” she said softly. “You okay?”

“Just thinkin' about Sadie,” he admitted.

“Most of the posters in her room are of you,” Alexa said. “How did you know she loved Sebastian?”

“'Cause she told me. I've never seen Sadie that normal. She was just like any other fan.”

“Sebastian handled it well,” Alexa noted. As of this moment, Sadie was having the time of her life after Seb himself offered to drive her back to Paper Planes.

“Can she be normal?”

What kind of question was that? “Sawyer,” Alexa said. “Of course she can. Aunt Gabby said she's made progress in the year she's been at Paper Planes. Loads of people affected by schizophrenia live a perfectly fulfilling life with medication and ongoing therapy. They have careers, families and sometimes children. You didn't think Sadie was going to be institutionalized for the rest of her life, did you?”

He didn't respond.

“Did you?”

“Well yeah,” he said. “I did. I guess.”

“Good news then,” she said. “Looks like Sadie is making many positive steps in learning how to cope.”

Sawyer laughed and the sound was beautiful. “I can't believe you called me over her temper tantrum.”

“Hey, when I called it was full out meltdown.”

“She was fine.”

“She is sure fine now.”

“Yeah,” Sawyer said. “I'm lucky to have friends like Seabass.”

Lindy didn't say a word on the way back so naturally, she was eavesdropping but it didn't matter.

Once they arrived, she surprised Alexa by giving her a bear hug. “Thank you so much, Alexa,” she said. “No one ever tries to do anything that nice for us.”

Alexa smiled. “No problem.”

Lindy waved and skipped up the stairs.

“Kid seems pretty happy about having a sandwich and witnessing one of Sadie's episodes,” Sawyer noted.

“Yeah well, I guess they don't get out much.”

“Guess not.”

Sadie and Sebastian pulled up in the empty space next to them. Alexa could hear Sadie even though the windows were closed. She would sing a verse at the top of her lungs and judging from Seb's mouth moving, he was singing verses in between.

He got out and went to the other side of the car, holding the door open for Sadie.

“You alright M and M?” Sawyer shouted.

Sadie beamed. “Yeah,” she said. “Better than ever. Sebastian and I are going for a walk.”

Sawyer nodded. “Alexa?” His voice was quiet.

“Yeah?”

“I love that guy.”

“Yeah,” Alexa said. “He is pretty amazing. So are you.”

He looked down and she noticed he had shoes on his feet rather than his motorcyle boots.

“Something on your mind?” 

“Can we talk for a minute?”

A horrible feeling rooted itself in her gut. Nothing about the way he spoke sounded good. Those words were historically followed by 'it's not you, it's me.' Her spine stiffened and she stood taller. No way was she going to let him know she was scared. “Yeah,” she said. “Sure.”

Sawyer grabbed her hand, intertwining her fingers with his. “Over there.” He nodded to a bench under one of the many poplar trees on the grounds.

She allowed him to lead her until when he sat down, she noticed his hand, usually strong, was shaking.

“You're scaring me,” she said.

“I'm sorry sugar,” he said. “Don't mean to be.”

“What's wrong?”

Sawyer sucked in a breath. “I found out today my best friend is in love with me.” 

Whoa. What? “As in Lane? That best friend?”

“One and the same,” Sawyer said bitterly.

“Oh. Well that's...complicated,” Alexa said. “I didn't even know he was gay.”

“Well he is. What am I supposed to do?”

“I don't know.”

Sawyer twisted to face her. His eyes were clouded with worry. “Sugar, you're gonna be a shrink one day. Consider this practice. Help me. Please.”

Alexa cleared her throat. “Well you two need to talk to him about it, of course.”

“What's there to talk about? He's gay. I'm not. That's pretty cut and dry.”

“That may be so,” Alexa agreed, “but you should still validate his feelings, Sawyer. You poke fun at him a lot.”

“Validate his feelings?”

“You asked me to put my shrink cap on, so listen up. Lane needs to know he means something to you.” She paused. “He does mean something to you, doesn't he?”

Sawyer looked as though he was fighting back tears. “Yeah,” he said. “He does.”

“You find a way to show him that you aren't dismissing his feelings as nothing more than a crush. Can you imagine being in love with someone you could never, ever have? It's heartbreaking.”

“I didn't really see it that way,” he admitted. “I always thought Lane just didn't want to be with anyone. Sure as shit didn't think he wanted to be with me.”

“Forget the cliché – ness of the following question, but how does it make you feel?” She hated those words, but sometimes they were necessary.

“That he's in love with me?”

“Yeah.”

“I don't know. I haven't really had time to process it.”

“You need to talk to him,” she said again. “Tell him how you feel about his friendship at least. Tell him it's important to you.”

“I can't,” he said.

“I bet you can,” Alexa said. “You just need to take a deep breath and let the words come out.”

“You make that sound easy.”

Alexa shook her head. “Oh no, it's not easy. It's never easy. But I promise that if you start to tell people how you feel about them, how much they mean to you, you're going to feel amazing.” 

“Alexa?”

“Yeah?”

“You're gonna make a real good shrink.”

He found himself staring at Alexa, wondering what he did right in life to get here. The answer was elusive. It'd been drilled into his brain since he could remember that he didn't do anything right so how he'd ended up with her was the one thing he didn't have the answer for.

Her cheeks filled with rose color and she smiled. “Why are you staring at me?”

“Because,” he said. “I can.”

“Fair enough,” she said. “Do I get to do the same?”

“It's a little vain for you to stare at you, isn't it?”

She stuck her tongue out. “You know what I mean.”

“You can look, you can touch, you can do whatever you want, darlin'.”

She ran her fingertip down his chest. “I'm lucky to have you,” she said. “But so are your friends. I get the feeling you're avoiding Lane.”

“You're feeling is dead on,” he said.

“You'll feel better.”

He knew she was right. He didn't want to fight with Lane. He didn't want Lane to be in love with him anymore but that was beside the point. How the hell was he going to fix this?

Sawyer rose to his feet and planted a kiss to her forehead. “See me later?” he asked.

“Yes,” Alexa said. “I hope so.”

He squinted. Seb and Sadie were little dots across the horizon. “Will you tell Seb thank you and I'll call him later.”

“I think he feels pretty good about helping,” Alexa said. “But of course I will let him know. Go.”

“My bike's at the studio.”

She smiled. “I'll drive you to pick it up.”

“Thanks,” he said. “You're the best.”

When Alexa dropped him off, it was no surprise Lane and Robbie were long gone. No one would have expected them to hang around for no reason. Charlie was there though, Sawyer went inside.

She had a clipboard and a pen in hand, walking to their instruments and equipement, checking things off as she went. “Hey you. Where's Seb?”

“Doing me a huge favor which I'm going to have to explain later.”

“I came to make sure everything was good to go for Solstice,” Charlie offered.

“Isn't that Ben's problem?”

“No. It's some poor guy's job who Ben probably pays like five bucks an hour but I like to double check. Sebastian trusts me more than Ben.”

“With good reason.”

“You're looking pretty pale, Mr. West,” Charlie said.

Sawyer sat on the arm of one of the worn couches. “Did you know about Lane?”

“What about Lane?”

“About how Lane feels about me.”

Charlie dropped her pen. “Yeah,” she said. “I knew.”

Great. Now he felt like a total loser. He was the last to know a not so well kept secret all about him.

“For how long?”

“He told Seb last year.”

What the hell? “Last year!”

“When you guys were in LA, recording the album.”

Everything spiraled from bad to worse. “That long? He's been in love with me for over a year?”

Charlie looked as if she were about to deliver a harsh blow. She stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “He's been in love with you since he met you. What was that? Six—seven years ago?” she said. “Really, you should be talking to him about this though, not me.”

“I don't know what to say to him.”

Charlie's hand rubbed circles on his back. “I know you walk around like you're untouchable, unbreakable, but you're not. I saw you. I saw the real you when I thought I was going to die. The way you looked at me, at Seb, at Lane. Your entire world was falling apart in that moment. Just like Seb's was. I see the way you are with Devin. You dote on her like she's the most important person in the world. You are clearly in love with Alexa, which is so adorable by the way. Why, when these things are so obvious, is it so hard for you to speak to your best friend?”

When he tended to Charlie's gunshot wound, he wasn't sure she was going to make it. Sawyer wondered how he'd ever be able to look any of his friends in the face again if he wasn't able to stop the bleeding. He'd feel responsible for the broken look in Sebastian's eyes and the hole that would have been left in Devin's heart. Just like now, he was responsible for Lane's broken heart.

“Thanks Chuck,” Sawyer said. “It's been a slice talking to you.”

“Sure,” Charlie said. “It's the least I can do, you saved my life.”

“So you could give me future pep-talks,” he assured her.

When he left Charlie, he had every intention of going home and finding or waiting for Lane. But the bar he found himself in reeked, invoking memories of the garage at his parents place. He recalled the countless times he'd fled from that garage to Lane's, beaten and battered. Lane would get him cleaned up, make sure he ate, but most importantly, the memory that stuck to his brain like glue was Lane listening. Pretending not to hear the cracking in Sawyer's voice or see the tears that he would try so hard to hide.

He ordered a Scotch, on the rocks and three shots of tequila. He had no idea how much time passed but he spent the better part of the afternoon drinking by himself and politely denying advances from females who approached. He'd signed autographs, took photos and chatted it up like a good famous person would do until he could take it no longer.

His world was spinning. A regular tilt-a-whirl by the time he worked up the courage to dial Lane. There was no way he was driving. Lane reluctantly agreed to pick him up, so he had another drink while he waited.

A couple of guys nearby were playing a pool game and the way they were carrying on made Sawyer wish that things with Lane could be that simple. Sawyer began to lose track of the game when the shadow of Lane's body appeared in the doorway.

He didn't say anything but rather approached Sawyer, grabbing the collar of his coat and hauling him up and off his chair. “Here,” he said thrusting Devin's helmet toward him. “I had to pay for a cab to get here. I don't want to be here. I'm not wearing her helmet. I'm taking yours.”

“I'm not wearing that th-th-thing.” He sucked in his breath. Did he have the hiccups?

“Just shut up and put it on.”

Sawyer clenched his teeth, suddenly angry. “Fuck you.” Damn it! That was not what Alexa meant by sharing feelings. 

“Fine.” Lane grabbed the helmet. “You can risk your life if you want. I don't give a shit but I'm wearing yours.” He walked out of the bar, his stance defensive.

Damn it! Sawyer stumbled behind. He shouldn't have had so much to drink.

Lane hoisted himself onto the Ducati. As Sawyer climbed on behind him, he tried to keep himself from sliding forward into Lane's back and making an awkward situation more awkward. “You do give a shit, Lane. You do. You give too much of a shit,” he slurred.

Lane started the engine. “Shut up, Sawyer.”

The wind was cool and crisp and sobering. It bit at Sawyer's skin, and by the time Lane pulled the bike into their parking garage, Sawyer was significantly less drunk. He was almost feeling normal.

Lane did some weird yoga stance up and over the handlebars and walked to the elevator without uttering a single word.

“Wait,” Sawyer said, rushing to catch up. By the time he reached Lane, he was awarded with a closer look. Lane had removed his helmet and it was obvious he'd been crying. His eyes were rimmed, dark red a perfect match to the skin around his nose. Sawyer guessed he'd been swiping at it with Kleenex to cause the irritation. 

Sawyer felt sick inside. This was all his fault. He followed Lane into the elevator and mumbled, “I'm sorry.”

Lane ignored him.

“You aren't in love with me,” Sawyer blurted. “Trust me. I'm a real prick.” May as well call a spade a spade.

“I know who you are.” Lane looked at his shoes and sniffled. “It doesn't matter, okay. Please just stop.”

He tilted his head up during his plea and the look in his eyes was unmistakeable. Sawyer recognized it as maybe adoration, more likely, the love Lane claimed to have. Fuck. Lane really did love him. Why did it have to be him?

“We need to talk about this, yeah?” Sawyer reached out and hit the emergency stop button with his finger.

“No,” Lane stepped forward to restart the lift but Sawyer caught his wrist.

“Yes,” he said firmly.

“Oh my God. Can you just leave me alone?” Lane said, trying to shake his wrist free. “Please Sawyer, just drop it.” Moisture filled his eyes and a single tear fell. Lane's bottom lip trembled. “Please,” he said, “stop.”

Sawyer couldn't stand to see him that way. So...broken. His friend's vulnerability left an empty hollow in the pit of his stomach. Sawyer rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand and before he could give himself time to chicken out, he used the advantage of his strength and Lane's current weakness to push Lane all the way to the opposite wall of the elevator. “This is so screwed up,” he whispered.

At first, Lane fought but not much. Sawyer kept his weight pushed forward and pinned Lane's arms above his head against the shiny metallic wall.

When Sawyer's lips settled on his, Lane's body went lax.

The kiss lasted longer than he'd planned. Not that he'd really planned on it, but life sometimes worked out that way, didn't it? It didn't feel much different than kissing a girl. Lane's lips were just as soft. The kiss confirmed what Sawyer already knew; he was definitely in love with Alexa. 

Lane looked ashen and stunned when Sawyer released him, bringing his hands to his mouth to confirm Sawyer's had been there. Sawyer stayed close and rested his forehead on Lane's. He grabbed the back of Lane's hair to hold him in place.

“You're my best friend,” Sawyer said, “My only real friend. I love you Lane, with all my heart, probably more than anybody else in the world but it's still not the way you want me to.”

“I know,” Lane murmured.

“I'm so sorry.”

Any fight Lane may have had was gone. “It's fine.”

“It ain't fine. I know I give you a hard time, but it's because I love you that I do. I know you won't hate me for it. You're the only person in my life who never hated me for bein' me.”

“I'd never hate you,” Lane said. “I couldn't.”

“And so many times you should've hated me for the way I acted or things I've said. One day you're gonna find the one for you. I know he's out there. I ain't even close to good enough for you.”

“Probably not,” Lane agreed and they both smiled.

“I'm always gonna be here for you,” Sawyer said. “No matter what, I'll be here. And when you find that guy, if he so much as makes you shed a single tear, Ima kill him with my bare hands.”

Lane nodded and Sawyer felt like he was breaking up with someone. He didn't say anything else but wrapped his arms around his friend and held him until Lane had himself together enough to pull away.

“Sawyer?”

“Yeah?” His reply was soft. He'd made himself a promise to knock off his crap with Lane who had been there more times than he could count. He planned to return to favor.

“Thanks.”

Sawyer gave him a smile. “I don't deserve anything from you, not even your friendship but you are my best friend. Please don't forget it.”

When they reached the penthouse, Sawyer made Lane a tea, himself a coffee. He sat on the couch, propping his feet up. Lane was exhausted from his tears and rested his head on Sawyer's shoulder.

He made sure he didn't move a muscle until the morning.