a/n: i could never have made this without the help of my best friend caffeinated-days, who sacrificed sleep and sanity for this (as did i). so go send them some love <3

also this is 5k words,,

tw: angst, depression, attempted suicide/suicidal thoughts, some blood, major character death

Keefe Sencen had an untimely death, on all accounts.

As a bright ray of light hit Sophie Foster, cleaving through flesh and bone, she let out a scream of agony. The spike of pain clawed at Keefe's heart. He could see the life slip from her eyes.

He had felt it when she died. The web of emotions he always sensed suddenly felt sparser, like Death had cruelly cut it with a scythe.

Keefe hated his ability at times. Visiting Sophie and Dex's Wanderlings, feeling the grief and pain of everyone around him. When Alden's mind broke and all he could do was watch as Fitz spiraled into rage. And the feeling of his mother's cruel satisfaction when he gained his supposed "legacy".

But he especially hated it now.

He felt her fear, her pain, her regrets—all in the span of a few moments. And then everything was gone.

The sudden loss of a life, a small star in the galaxy winked out of existence. The thud her body made when it hit the ground would remain engraved in his memory, seeming to echo throughout the world.

When Sophie Foster died, Keefe Sencen died with her.

His rage was like a bomb's drop: destroying anything and everything within the radius. In his blind fury, Keefe even destroyed his mother, Lady Gisela, whom he had been dreading to face for too long.

She had been a constant in his life, from acting as his caring mother when he was younger to when his illusion of her finally shattered. She had guided the Moonlark and company by the hand of her cruel design, leaving blood and tears in her wake.

And now she was gone.

After that, Keefe had naively expected that there would be joy. The Neverseen's regime had been toppled at long last, his long mission finally at an end.

Without the task of destroying the Neverseen, he felt like he was floating unmoored, adrift on a tumultuous sea with no stars to guide him.

If he had been truly alive, he would have noticed that his friends were the same way, too.

But, Keefe Sencen remained a shell of his former self, left among the dust of his life.

He was like the princess trapped in her tower, only he was locked in his room. His castle, where he bided his time staring at the wall with unseeing eyes. But he wasn't being kept prisoner by a dragon.

He was kept prisoner by his mind.

Days turned into months. He felt like furniture being aged and faded by sunlight, turning grayer by the day. If he waited long enough—a few years, maybe—he would just reduce to bones and crumble to ashes.

The curse of an elf was their immortality. And Keefe already had enough of his time.

He was tired of mindlessly watching the sun rise and set, of days moving on as he could only stand still, of him living without purpose. He ignored his hungering body, ignored the consistent calls from his friends, and used that tower to his advantage.

A long time ago, he might have used the Vortinator, shooting up the stairs like a rollercoaster. He was past that now, walking up its every step, enjoying the pain of his labor. The stairs spiraled upwards and never seemed to end, going higher and higher until he reached the roof.

If life had no purpose for him, maybe death would.

As he stared out at the cruel, unforgiving world, he wished things had been different.

His voice creaked from disuse as he whispered with his eyes closed.

"I wish it had been me instead, Foster."

Keefe opened his eyes, feeling the wind tearing at his cheeks and thought of something more to say. He thought of a pensive eulogy, of what his Wanderling would look like, of if anyone would find him.

He shook his head to clear himself of these thoughts, focusing instead on the tiled marble beneath his feet, the crispness of the air. He was up here for a reason.

A soft sigh escaped his lips, and he took a step forward.

As he fell, his last thought was of his friends.

The world whirled around him, sky and earth merging into one as the wind rushed around him, messing up his hair. He saw the earth approaching and closed his eyes.

Pain lanced through him, sharper and more intense than anything he had ever felt.

When would it end?

He counted to ten in his mind, but there was no blinding flash of light or peaceful release.

He was still alive. Unfortunate.

It turned out that even gravity could let him down. It couldn't grant him his wish. He laid there, bloodied, broken, and battered on the pavilion. He cried.

He cried for Sophie, for her death. He cried for the ones who had died before her, needless deaths, wasted lives. He cried for his mother, for his father. And he cried for himself.

But, in the midst of his tears, someone found him.

Panicked shouts. The call of his name.

Keefe innately recognized the voice, its owner. Though, it had been so long since he had seen ...well, anyone. It took a moment for him to gather up his thoughts and fight for a coherent sentence.

"Fa... father?"

He hoped his whisper met a fate other than the fathomless cold he plunged into.

Keefe awoke to a blinding, sterile white.

Was he finally dead?

Then he felt soft linen. The stiffness in his limbs, and unrelenting headache hit next. When he tried to massage his forehead—a fruitless attempt without any movement at all—he realized he was covered in bandages as far as the eye could see.

Alive. Keefe was alive.

Even from such a great height, all he got were a couple of broken bones?

It was unfair. It was unfair that he still couldn't die and Sophie-

All that it took was a moment, and she was dead. She was gone, and-

Keefe slammed his head back onto the pillow, cutting off that thought. Then he slammed his head again.

And again. Once more.

He was determined to make it end.

Every minute that passed felt like agony, and he cursed the fact that he could bear his throbbing headache the longer he went on.

Thud. Thud.

Again and again, he slammed his head, squeezing his eyes to block out the memories: memories of her, her body falling, the world breaking.

He thought he had finally earned his demise when he had stepped off that tower, but now there was no escaping the confines of his now-dulled pain.

Maybe, just maybe if he found a way to lie on his stomach he could suffocate himself?

Suddenly, he felt something warm touch his hand, the warmth of skin, of flesh and blood.

He looked around as best he could with his limited mobility.

Sitting next to him, asleep, was his father, Lord Cassius Sencen.

Keefe frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. He resisted the urge to recoil from his finite sight: his father loosely holding one of his hands, in the tender way that a parent would if they actually loved their child.

His father was actually here? What could be so important that his father would visit?

Perhaps he had heard Keefe's body hit the ground—just as Sophie's had, now that he was thinking about it—and rushed out to find him.

An unsuccessful contemplation where Keefe tried to move his fingers again, was interrupted by a quiet click. More light seeped in from the hallway.

The door slammed into the wall with a force that made Keefe want to cover his ears—the past few months had softened and isolated him. Days would never pass with only the soft sounds of birdsong and wind. No, the world was much more: it did not yield to anyone.

Everything seemed so loud now.

A figure with dark, pin-perfect hair and teal eyes entered the room. It was someone who Keefe would've recognized anywhere.

Fitz.

"What are you doing here?" Voice hoarse, a stone-cold anger washed over Keefe. He tried to cough the scratchy feeling in his throat away, but it only made things worse.

Fitz hastened to Keefe's bedside, opposite to his father, and didn't say anything for a few moments, instead staring at the bandages covering Keefe's body.

"I'm sorry." Fitz's apology was little more than a whisper. "I-"

His voice cracked, even being wary not to meet Keefe's gaze. "I'm sorry for destroying our friendship and for not being there when you needed me."

If Keefe hadn't been feeling so numb, he would've been surprised. Angry. Elated, even.

All he did was give Fitz a nod.

Fitz paused for a moment, looking like he was going to say more.

But there was nothing, save him turning on his heels to leave.

Keefe let out a sigh and tipped his head back, letting his eyes half-close. He thought, for a moment, about asking for some water, but he just didn't have the energy.

He heard a pair of different footsteps: near-silent, like their owner was used to sneaking around. They were hesitant, almost scared.

After so many years listening to it, Keefe would recognize those footsteps anywhere.

Keefe kept his eyes closed and smiled, his tone mocking. "I never thought you would take the time to visit me."

He opened his eyes slowly, expecting that his visitor would have completely changed since they had last met.

But, in front of him stood the same Tam Song, looking nearly identical in appearance to when Keefe had last seen him.

Tam tugged on his bangs, his silver gaze boring into Keefe like he was trying to drill in his words. "Keefe, I've been calling for months. We all have. But you just hid yourself away."

Keefe laughed, then coughed once, painfully. "Please! You say you called for months but I only see you after I try to kill myself.

Tam frowned and took a step forward. "That's—"

"And just where were you after Sophie died?"

He knew he had crossed the line, but he didn't care. All that mattered to him right now was the itch underneath his skin and the way his blood boiled for a fight. He wanted every one of his words to strike, tongue now sharpened by time, knives to pierce his surface. Anything to give Tam some semblance of the pain he had felt everyday.

Tam's eyes darken as he closed the space between them. Furious, he slapped Keefe's face.

"Don't you dare blame that on me. On any of us. In case you didn't notice—which you clearly haven't—Sophie's death affected all of us. And when we finally started trying to heal and move on, guess who wasn't there? You."

Keefe glared at Tam, silently fuming.

"You locked yourself in that tower! You made it so we couldn't leap to your house! You were the one who pushed all of us away!" Tam's voice wobbled like he was trying not to cry.

"Well maybe," Keefe said, voice laced with venom, "Maybe it wasn't on purpose, huh? Maybe there's a difference between pushing you away and drowning without anyone to save you!"

The end of his sentence rose into a shout, leaving Keefe hacking and wheezing. Phlegm and blood flew from his mouth in a violent coughing fit that had him, ironically, gasping for air.

When Tam offered him water, he accepted.

Tam tilted the cup, trying to get water into Keefe's mouth. At first, he spilled it all over Keefe's face—probably just to be petty—and when he actually got it in, Keefe couldn't breathe for what seemed like the longest time, choking on the water.

Keefe gasped for air, hissing in pain when his side throbbed. "Shit," he whispered, then glared at Tam. "Can't you do anything right? At least help me sit up if you're going to water me!"

Tam frowned, setting down the water and looping an arm under Keefe's back to slowly sit him up.

In the moments where Tam touched him, Keefe felt like his skin was burning—he had nearly forgotten about his Empathy, and the feeling of Tam's emotions hurt.

It made him feel like a child, with Tam bringing the cup to his lips and Keefe taking small, tiny, sips, but he still couldn't move his stupid hands.

Keefe was grateful that Tam didn't say anything more, staying silent for a few moments before leaving.

In the fuss of his father waking up, Elwin coming to take care of him, not to mention Keefe finding out that he was paralyzed—temporarily, or so Elwin assured—Keefe completely forgot about Tam.

Keefe thought that would've been the end of it.

But, the next day, Tam disturbed his peaceful slumber. He didn't talk about Sophie again, but instead talked about something entirely unexpected:

His parents.

Tam spoke for what felt like ages, Keefe listening intently. He was curious about Tam's past and asked the occasional question, but made sure not to seem too nosy. Keefe learned about what Tam had suffered throughout all those years and how he had felt at Exilium. He was starting to wonder if Tam had a point besides sharing his past when Tam paused.

"When Linh and I were exiled... that wasn't a good time for me. I had so much guilt and fear and anger that my mind could've broken, if I hadn't been careful."

Keefe didn't dare say anything, not wanting to disturb the fragile silence.

"And then, one day, Linh got hurt. It was so bad that I wa-" Tam tugged on his bangs. "I was worried she wouldn't wake up. And during that time, I felt hollow—empty—like time was moving on without me."

With a flash of realization, Keefe finally understood.

Tam understood him.

How he felt.

Besides telling his story and sharing food, Tam didn't do anything else. He didn't press Keefe to talk about his feelings or reminisce on his past. No, he was just there for him, and then he left, promising to return.

Day by day, Tam's constant presence went from understandable—if annoying—becoming someone who Keefe could consider a close friend.

Sometimes, it felt like Tam was trying to instigate a response out of Keefe. They would keep going until it escalated into banter.

Nevertheless, as Tam kept visiting him, Keefe kept healing. He was less empty than before. He cautiously used his Empathy again, often feeling Tam's emotions when he visited.

Almost a few months passed like this, with constant therapy visits, both physical and mental. And, when the time was right, Elwin decreed that Keefe was allowed to walk again, but only with exercise and stretching and supervision and-

"Yeah, yeah, he gets it," Tam grumbled. When Elwin wasn't looking, he rolled his eyes. "Now if you're quite finished, let's go somewhere, Keefe."

"I really hope I won't regret this!" Keefe shouted as Tam lightleaped them away.

When they rematerialized, Keefe saw a serene, peaceful meadow around them. The mossy ground had patches of grass and wildflowers, and Keefe watched as a bee buzzed from flower to flower, covered in pollen. There was an ornate gate, and a path leading into the forest.

His heartbeat seemed to echo in his ears, and it took him a moment for him to focus on breathing.

Tam, noticing Keefe's expression, turned pale. "I just thought-maybe you-it might help!" He ended his random string of thoughts with:"Unless you don't want to? We can go back, it's fine-"

Keefe laboriously took a few steps, placing his hand on Tam's shoulder. He winced at how strong his emotions felt with the physical contact.

"It's okay. I want to go here. I'm ready."

Tam slowly nodded, relieved. As the two of them walked further in, Tam put an arm around Keefe to stabilize him as he walked.

That's what Keefe told himself.

The lush forest was dappled with sunlight, the ground soft and springy as they slowly made their way through the trees.

Tam stopped, then poked Keefe. "We're here."

Keefe squinted up at the sunlight, and then gasped.

It had been years since Sophie's Wanderling was first planted, and it had grown, towering above him. Keefe brought his gaze down to see a loose ring of gifts and letters wrapped around the base of the trunk.

"Those are from us, and, well, everyone else." Tam paused, taking in the sorrow on Keefe's face. "I'll...give you a moment."

Tam walked off to explore the other Wanderlings, and Keefe appreciated the silence. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn't completely silent, not for him.

He could feel the low hum of energy, of emotions, coursing through her tree. Through every tree in the forest. Though it was slow and nearly imperceptible, it was still there. The realization brought a smile to his face.

And for the first time since his fall, Keefe cried.

He wept not for anyone or anything in particular, but simply to cry. All of his emotions that had been so bottled up finally flowed out, relaxing him.

After a few minutes of tears silently streaming down his face, Keefe hiccupped.

"You know, Foster, I miss you so much. It was so unbearable at first, I couldn't stand living without you. But now..." Keefe sighed, "I'm not alone in this. I have Tam. I have all the rest of my friends for me. I just hope that one day..."

Keefe let his sentence trail off, finishing it in his head.

He hoped that one day, it wouldn't hurt so much.

He sniffled, wiping his face roughly, then turned to find Tam. Shouting his name out into the open air, he found him just a few steps away.

"Hey, Tam-" Keefe's sentence cut off as his legs suddenly failed. He readied for the aftershock that would come with crumbling down, but Tam caught him before the initial impact.

"Ah, I guess I overworked my legs today." Keefe gave Tam a tired smile. "Oh well."

Tam frowned as he held Keefe, no doubt noticing the puffiness of his eyes. In an unexpectedly gentle move, he wiped a stray tear off of Keefe's cheek.

"Yeah," Tam murmured, "Let's head back."

Keefe healed at an exponential pace in the following weeks, gaining more use of his body by the day. He was more comfortable with his Empathy and emotions, especially after going to therapy.

One of the main things he remembered from that healing period was visiting his friends.

When Keefe visited the Vackers, he and Fitz had hugged and cried and decided to catch up. It turned out that Fitz and Dex were dating now, which was a welcome surprise.

When he passed by Biana's door, Fitz stopped him from entering. He told him that Biana had been taking it hard.

"Can I see her?" Keefe whispered, and Fitz reluctantly let him in.

When he saw Biana, he wasn't sure what he had expected. Maybe some puffy eyes and dark circles, but not this.

Gone were the days of gaudy clothes, for she wore black and green, the mourning colors of the elves and humans. Though she wasn't crying, her eyes held a deep sadness. The light threw her scarred side into sharp relief. Biana's ability as a Vanisher was causing parts of her body to flicker in and out of visibility, like a mirage.

And through all this, Biana was better than Keefe had been. She didn't ignore him.

"Keefe," she breathed, teal eyes wide.

Keefe felt a large outpouring of emotion - he couldn't tell if it was from him or Biana - and he surged forward, hugging her tightly.

Biana fell apart in his embrace, murmuring incomprehensible things.

Keefe couldn't care less about whether he could hear now. He understood, regardless.They stood there, sobbing what words itself could not express.

Keefe finally pulled away. "I'm sorry for not reaching out earlier."

Biana wiped away a tear. "It's okay. I was the same way as you for a bit, but my family helped me get back to my feet."

There was a pause, and then Keefe whispered, "I miss her so much."

Biana nodded, pulling him into another hug. "I know."

Though Biana was far shorter than him, Keefe felt cradled in her embrace.

"I wish I had told her..."

"That I loved her." Biana finished his sentence.

As they hugged, Keefe felt what seemed to be an infinite feedback loop of emotions.

He and Biana felt the same about Sophie. They had both lost the same thing. The realization sent fresh tears falling down his face.

Keefe spent what felt like an eternity in her arms, and was startled back to life when Fitz came in with food for both of them. He was followed by a shadowy, silver-eyed figure. Tam.

Keefe glanced at Tam curiously. "Why are you here?" Unlike the first time he had asked him that, this time he wasn't angry at Tam, just curious.

Tam tugged on his bangs. "I, uh, wanted to show you something. Unless you're busy!" He shot a glance at Keefe and Biana.

"Nah, I'll join you after I eat, it's fine."

Tam nodded and left the room with Fitz.

Biana gave Keefe a wry smile as she nodded at the door. "You don't have to end with Sophie. Your life can continue."

Keefe stared at her, picking at his ripplefluff. "How?"

The question was so quiet that he was sure Biana hadn't heard it. Yet, she sighed and looked out the window.

"I'm not the right person to ask about that. But I do know this—" she leaned forward and grabbed his hands, "The troubles of our past are over. You have the time to just breathe and take it in. And with Tam? Don't waste that chance."

She let go of his hands, severing the connection, and they ate their food in silence while Keefe mused over her advice.

He wondered what exactly she had meant about Tam; she couldn't have meant anything romantically, right? No, he was sure that Tam didn't see him like that.

He promptly left when he was finished, wanting to see what Tam had in store for him. After searching for a bit, he found him outside Everglen.

"Hey." Tam smiled, brushing his silver bangs out of his eyes. "Ready to go somewhere?"

Keefe took a deep breath and nodded, taking Tam's hand and feeling surprised when he was led to the back of the house.

An alcorn stood there, height rising well above him, with impressive wings that fluttered slightly in the breeze. She tossed her head back with a neigh, shaking her mane and cantering over to them. It wasn't just any alicorn.

It was Silveny.

She pawed at the ground and whinnied, stopping in front of Keefe and nuzzling his face. He reached out a hand and placed it on her silvery hide, petting her for a moment.

Tam finally tugged him away from the alicorn, climbing onto her back and pulling Keefe up behind him. After a few seconds of trotting around, she spread her wings and flew.

It took several flaps of her wings to lift her off the ground, rising higher into the sky until Keefe could see past the treetops. He saw Everglen grow even smaller beneath them as Silveny rose higher into the sky.

At that exact moment, Keefe decided that—based on first-hand experience—flying was far better than falling.

When he later offhandedly joked about this on their flight, Tam turned to look at him, eyes wide.

"That's the first time you've told a joke since she died."

Keefe stared back in shock. "...Good for me, I guess."

The rest of the flight passed in an amiable silence as Keefe took in the scenery around him. The sky was tinged with pinks and gold, drifting past at a leisurely pace while Tam whispered directions to Silveny.

She slowed from flapping to soaring at a coastline, gliding down to land on the silver-pink sands of a nearby beach which Keefe hadn't even known existed.

"Walk with me," Tam suggested, which Keefe agreed to.

They headed down the shore. Their footsteps left soft indentations in the sand, blue waves lapped gently at their feet.

The idyllic scene made Keefe want to come back there one day. It was beautiful, but so was the person beside him.

As they walked, they talked about nothing and everything and all the things in between. Then, Keefe brought up something he had been wondering about for a while now.

"Now that my body is officially healed or whatever, where am I supposed to go? Not Candleshade or the Shores of Solace for sure. Do you think the Black Swan has any places open?"

He fervently wished that Tam would give him another option—the very thought of going back to Candleshade made him feel trapped and scared.

Tam frowned at Keefe's perceived options in blatant disbelief.

"You could always stay with me and Linh."

"Oh, I didn't even think about that! Sure."

His question answered, Keefe stared out at the ocean, a warm feeling inside his chest. He leaned down and scooped up some water.

Tam let out a shout as Keefe splashed him, and he darted away, laughing. When he noticed that Tam wasn't giving chase, he turned, confused.

Tam was staring at him with a strange look in his silver eyes, and Keefe suddenly felt self-conscious, like his every thought was being laid bare.

"What is it?"

The smile on Tam's face made his features appear much softer than they usually were, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he spoke.

"Nothing. I'm just glad to see you happy."

Those words made butterflies appear in Keefe's stomach. He opted to stare at a random spot over Tam's shoulder, feeling flustered. And for a fleeting moment, Keefe felt the urge to move closer and do something rash and stupid. Like kissing him.

All those thoughts were dashed away as Tam awkwardly cleared his throat and led Keefe back to Silveny.

They spent the rest of the flight in silence.

As agreed upon by Keefe and Tam, Keefe quickly prepared to move into Choralmere, which was the home of the Songs. The name sent tremors of trepidation throughout him as he remembered the past.

He remembered the pain that Linh and Tam had suffered here, their tears and sorrows they had faced at the hands of their parents. He wondered how they could possibly stand to live there now.

Tam must've seen the worries on his face as they stared at Choralmere, and he smiled.

"You've missed out on some stuff, Keefe. Our parents... they've been exiled, so the house belongs to me and Linh now. And we've made some changes."

Despite Tam's assurances, Keefe was nervous as he walked in. However, his nerves melted away into awe as he looked around. Their era of minimalistic grays and blues was over.

Tam and Linh had decorated the halls with bright, weaving stripes of silvers and yellows, and the stained-glass windows brought in even more colors. He passed rooms filled with delicate structures of ice—no doubt made by Linh—and a curious room with a pool of shimmering water.

Tam and Linh had reclaimed it for themselves.

The thought struck a chord in Keefe, and he found himself wondering if he could ever reclaim the destruction and pain his parents had wrought. If he could make a new image for himself. If he could take this second chance.

The sun set while Keefe moved his things into his new room, However, his insomnia kept him from rest.

He quietly padded through the halls of Choralmere, trying to figure out where the kitchen was. As he wandered, he felt a spike of emotions coming from somewhere in the house.

He made a quick little detour, reassuring himself that this wasn't eavesdropping, it was just...investigating.

Tam and Linh were having a quiet argument of sorts, and Keefe strained to hear what they were saying inside their four walls.

"...It's clear he cares about you, Tam! You should at least try—"

"I don't even know if he's gotten over Sophie yet! He's probably not ready for a new relationship right now. And besides, how do I even know if he feels the same?"

"Tam, you worry too much! Why can't you just..."

The conversation faded from earshot as Keefe moved away, his steps hesitant, wanting to hear more. His thoughts moved faster than he could. Tam posed a good question:

Was he over Sophie? Even he didn't know.

As he finally found the kitchen and got himself a midnight snack, Keefe had to resist the urge to let out a giddy scream of realization.

Tam liked him.

He quickly stuffed mallowmelt in his mouth, his body jittering with nerves. He wanted to move, to run around, to—

"You're still awake?"

Keefe let out a garbled scream as he turned to find Tam standing in the doorway.

Tam. The guy who liked him and didn't know that Keefe reciprocated it.

That Tam.

Keefe turned, trying to hide the flustered blush on his face, and quickly swallowed the mallowmelt. Then he turned back, giving Tam a thumbs-up.

"Yep!"

Tam frowned, the look of concern on his face making Keefe's stupid heart go faster. "Did you forget where your room is or something? C'mon, let's get you to sleep."

Keefe eagerly let Tam guide him back to his room, and he tucked him in like he was a child. The combination of sugar and nerves meant that Keefe wasn't likely to sleep soon, so he begged Tam to tell him a story.

With a sigh, Tam sat at the edge of his bed and began to speak. He told him a story of love, of happily-ever-after, and Keefe could hear the yearning in Tam's voice.

But, eventually the story had to end. As all fantasies do.

Tam got up from Keefe's bed and was about to leave, but then paused. Keefe was wondering if he was going to get another story when Tam turned and quickly kissed Keefe on the forehead before leaving.

When Keefe slept, no nightmares came to visit.

The next day gave him plenty to think about. He thought about how he felt about Sophie, how he felt about Tam, and how he felt about himself.

Thinking about Sophie was painful. But, it made him realize that there was nothing he could do about her death anymore, which gave him a semblance of peace.

With that in mind, he set to making a gift.

It took him several days to make it, with several pencils giving way in the process, but when he looked at it, he was satisfied. He didn't want to give it to her immediately, though.

He had some things to talk about with Tam first.

***

Keefe knelt, placing his gift at the base of her Wanderling. As he stood strong, he smiled up at the leaves of her tree, hoping she could hear him.

"Thank you, Sophie."

Then, he turned and walked away, hand-in-hand with his boyfriend.

Keefe Sencen died with Sophie, but Tam Song brought him back to life.