“Please, be careful, we can sweep up the rest. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” His voice was much gentler with Sam than it had been with his father. There was no sign of the anger that had been under the surface just minutes ago, it having left along with Samuel. Now he was just tired and guilty after everything that had happened.

“Sam, you are doing a good job. What your father thinks shouldn’t matter anymore. It only matters what you think and how you feel.” Benedict had never been good at comforting other people. Expressing emotions made him very uncomfortable but he wanted to help Sam. “It’s my fault that your father acted the way he did towards you. I should have just kept my mouth shut and played along, then he wouldn’t have gotten upset. None of this would have happened if I would have done that, and I’m sorry.”

He chose to let Samuel walk out the door without saying anything further to the man. His point had come across clearly, there was nothing more that he had to say. The situation had escalated in a way that he hadn’t been prepared for. It was bad enough the things that Sam had to go through and now it worried him that his own father would be hearing about it and would likely become involved. Benedict fought down the panic that the threat triggered and instead turned his attention to his husband.

He couldn’t step towards him because of the glass that now covered their floor. So, he grabbed a dish towel and began picking up the pieces that he could, speaking gently as he did so. “Sam…? I’m…” He hesitated for a moment, trying to think of the right words. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have behaved like that. I just, I couldn’t watch your father treat you like that. You deserve better. I wanted to help and I think I just made things worse, and I’m sorry.”

Having picked up as much of the glass that he could, he disposed of it, waiting to do anything else just yet. There were some smaller pieces that would need to be swept up but the majority of it was now cleaned. He wanted to reach out to Sam and comfort him. But they hadn’t done anything like that since they met. Ben didn’t know what to do.

Benedict took a few moments to process everything that Sam had just told him. It was already hard enough not remembering big chunks of his life. But he wasn’t sure if this was really something that he would want to remember. It sounded like a painful ordeal that he was no longer a part of, rather he was a spectator. Not even that, he was someone who was hearing about it in passing now. Was that better or worse than remembering all the pain?

“…Maybe. It could help me piece some things together.” He rested his hand on top of Sam’s. If he was being honest, he didn’t want to reach out to a therapist. Ben still wasn’t sure if remembering this chapter of his life was a good thing. “I’m sorry. This is just a lot to take in…”

Ben had heard Sam cry out and knew immediately that he needed to check on him. He shouldn’t have let his father near him alone again anyway, it definitely wasn’t wise. He wasn’t even sure how Samuel had managed to get into the kitchen without him noticing in the first place.

As soon as he saw what was going on he was furious as well as shocked. He knew how manipulative Samuel was, but to see him lay hands on Sam sent him over the edge. He managed to keep his anger from showing, he didn’t want to scare Sam, but it was still there.

“I think it would be wise,” Benedict began, walking over and getting between Sam and Samuel, making Samuel drop his hand from Sam’s wrist, “if you kept your hands off of my husband. I also think it would be wise if you left. Dinner is over and so I think you should get out of our home and go back to yours.” He took a step towards Samuel, trying to keep him away from his son.

His anger was still mostly in check but Benedict was a large man, even compared with Samuel. His stature alone was enough to intimidate most people and he was hoping it would work here. If not, things would probably just continue to escalate.

He couldn’t step towards him because of the glass that now covered their floor. So, he grabbed a dish towel and began picking up the pieces that he could, speaking gently as he did so. “Sam...? I’m...” He hesitated for a moment, trying to think of the right words. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have behaved like that. I just, I couldn’t watch your father treat you like that. You deserve better. I wanted to help and I think I just made things worse, and I’m sorry.”

He gave Sam a confused look and shook his head after a few moments. There had been dreams since he’d been in the hospital, and some of them had involved fighting. They were too jumbled with other things to make any sense, though, so he had assumed they were just dreams and nothing more. He could hardly even remember them once he was awake.

“I don’t remember there being a war at all. Or fighting in one. Or coming home. But I’m guessing that’s where I hurt my leg, then, right?” It would make sense, he figured, the doctors would have told him about his leg being injured if it had been new. “Do you… I don’t know how long we’ve been together. Do you know what happened to me?”

Benedict paled a little bit at the mention of his own father. He was already digging himself into a hole and he definitely didn’t want his father catching wind of it. However, he was also pretty sure that Sam had wanted to go to the conference with him. Plus, he wanted Sam there, it would be nice to spend time with each other. There were two options at this point, back down and let Samuel continue with his manipulation, or, dig in even deeper.

“Sam is not a distraction. He’s my husband and I want to be able to spend time with him. If he would rather spend that weekend with you and the rest of your family, he’s welcome to do so.” There was no hesitation as he continued. “But that’s a decision you can’t make for him. I’m sure we can arrange another time for a visit if we decide to go to the conference together.”

He gave his husband a small smile. He wanted Sam to come with him, and he didn’t want him to make the decision right now, not with his father right in front of him. He just hoped that he wasn’t upsetting him in any way.

Sam himself was quiet; the idea of arguing with his father was already stressing him out. It would be easier to just listen to him. Thankfully, his father didn’t push the topic any further. Before Sam knew it, he was collecting the dishes from around the table to wash. Usually, he and Benedict would do this together, but tonight he did it by himself. He thought he was alone in the kitchen, and that his father and Benedict had retired to the living room, but suddenly there was a hand around his forearm, holding him tightly in place. 

“You made me look like a fool, Samuel!” His father hissed, and Sam ducked his head. “You just sat there like an idiot and let him contradict me like that? I’m your father, I raised you. If your mother was alive-” He shook his head disapprovingly. 

As soon as he saw what was going on he was furious as well as shocked. He knew how manipulative Samuel was, but to see him lay hands on Sam sent him over the edge. He managed to keep his anger from showing, he didn’t want to scare Sam, but it was still there.

“I think it would be wise,” Benedict began, walking over and getting between Sam and Samuel, making Samuel drop his hand from Sam’s wrist, “if you kept your hands off of my husband. I also think it would be wise if you left. Dinner is over and so I think you should get out of our home and go back to yours.” He took a step towards Samuel, trying to keep him away from his son.

“Just above the knee, but yeah, it’s the left leg. I mean, they both hurt, but it’s worse in the left leg for sure.” He gave Sam’s hand a small squeeze. “I’m sure that if it was anything important then the doctors would have said something, right? Maybe they just didn’t notice that it was more badly injured.”

Benedict was trying to assure himself more than anything. He thought that it was a bit odd that Sam knew which leg it was and where the pain was coming from. However, he decided it was probably just a lucky guess.

Ben gave Sam a small smile when he spoke. It was nice to hear him say something that wasn’t about trying to impress his father. Unfortunately, his smile quickly disappeared as soon as Samuel started talking. Who did he think he was? Sam was out of the house now, he couldn’t just come in here and order him around. It wasn’t right and he wasn’t going to sit there and let Samuel walk all over both of them.

“Actually, it was my idea for him to come with me. I think it would be nice for us to spend some time together and I want him to come.” He gave Samuel a look that wasn’t a glare or out-right defiant, but there was something in his eyes almost daring the other man to challenge him.

He was also very careful to keep his voice in check. Letting his anger show would do him no good. Thankfully, he was good at these sorts of games. “I appreciate your concern,” he most certainly did not, “but I invited Sam to come with me and so if that’s still what he wants to do, we’ll be going together.”

Samuel huffed a little bit, shaking his head.  “Samuel wouldn’t know what to do with himself while you were working. Idle hands are the devil’s tools, you know. It would be better to just have him spend time with his family. He hasn’t visited us at home since he moved in. His brother and sisters miss him.” He said, casting a look over at Sam, who looked as though he’d only just remembered he had any siblings. “Not to mention his mother.” “It wouldn’t be so bad to visit for a few days,” Sam said, smiling guiltily. He hadn’t realized his step-siblings really cared for him all that much - he’d certainly never *felt* very close with any of them. They were all at least ten years younger than him. 

“Sam is not a distraction. He’s my husband and I want to be able to spend time with him. If he would rather spend that weekend with you and the rest of your family, he’s welcome to do so.” There was no hesitation as he continued. “But that’s a decision you can’t make for him. I’m sure we can arrange another time for a visit if we decide to go to the conference together.”

He hated seeing Sam like this. It felt like they were back to their very first weeks of being married, where they barely even tried to talk to one another. All he wanted was to get Samuel to leave so that he could help Sam feel better. Although having his father gone would probably be a good first step in that process, he knew he couldn’t just kick him out.

Benedict tried to eat but his stomach was twisted in knots both from how much he disliked Samuel and from how nervous Sam was. His own father being brought up didn’t do much to fix the problems.

“Work is going well. My father is only trying to teach me what he can so that I’m ready to inherit everything once he’s gone.” Ben wanted to complain about how hard his father worked him, but he didn’t want Samuel telling his father he’d been talking poorly of him. “The difficulties now will pay off later.”

“Actually, it was my idea for him to come with me. I think it would be nice for us to spend some time together and I want him to come.” He gave Samuel a look that wasn’t a glare or out-right defiant, but there was something in his eyes almost daring the other man to challenge him.

“You’re probably right. The more I move, the better it’ll be.” He agreed. With Sam’s help, he managed to slowly do a few laps around the room. While he was still in a good amount of pain, it was nice to be moving again and he could maneuver fairly well considering both how beat up he was and how long he’d laid in bed.

After finishing the laps Benedict was quick to lay back down, feeling somewhat relieved. He noticed, however, that his left leg was causing him more problems and pain than his right. It had been pretty seriously injured during the war, which was the cause of the extra pain, but he didn’t remember it. “Sam? Did the doctor mention anything about either of my legs being injured?”

Ben chose to ignore the joke, only giving a smile in response. He was almost positive that Samuel’s teaching methods hadn’t been the greatest. Plus, he didn’t think that he could ever bring himself to thank this man for anything. Except for maybe thanks for the moment he finally left. That might be worth it.

“Of course. I’m sure whatever it is will be delicious.” He said, leading the way into the kitchen. He gave Sam a smile, a genuine smile, not like the fake ones he’d been giving his father so far. “Dinner smells wonderful.” He told him before taking a seat at the table. Normally, he would offer to help serve the food. But he figured that Sam’s father would likely frown upon that and so he decided against it.

Samuel sat down as well next to Benedict, and Sam refilled his coffee before he had even settled. He put a glass of water in front of Benedict - he wasn’t even sure if that’s what he wanted, but he was too nervous to ask. He kept reaching his hands up to touch his hair before remembering that it had been cut and then busying his hands with something else. He placed their plates in front of them before sitting down himself, his hands in his lap. 

Benedict tried to eat but his stomach was tiwsted in knots both from how much he disliked Samuel and from how nervous Sam was. His own father being brought up didn’t do much to fix the problems.

Benedict relaxed when Sam touched his hair. It was a nice feeling and he wished that he would have continued doing that instead of pulling away and standing up.

“Okay…” Ben kept his grip on Sam’s hands as he slowly managed to stand. He got up just fine but the pain wasn’t going away just because he was standing now. If anything it was worse since his body was now supporting his weight rather than being spread on a mattress. “I’m not sure how far we’ll get, but I’ll give it my best shot.”

Benedict didn’t like that he’d made Samuel laugh. He didn’t like the way that he touched him either. And he certainly wasn’t fond of the way that he was talking about his own son. He was already long past the point of wanting the night to be over. But none of that meant he was just going to stand there and let himself be manipulated.

“Actually, I’m the one who should be considered lucky.” He was careful to keep a smile on his face as he spoke. “Sam is a wonderful husband. All I do is work but he takes care of the entire house all on his own. And he still manages to have dinner ready for me every single night. There’s not much that could be better than that.” 

Samuel pursed his lips at that, raising an eyebrow at Benedict. Not only did he think that a partner should be cleaning and cooking, but it was also important to put their partners’ needs first. He felt as though Sam was always trying to find small ways to bend the rules, like growing his hair longer than was appropriate, and it angered Samuel to no end. 

He nearly panicked when Sam turned to pull the tray closer. There was a sense that everything was falling apart around him but he wasn’t even sure what it was that was falling apart. Ben also really wasn’t in the mood to eat anything anymore. His stomach had become twisted in knots from worry and from trying to figure things out. But Sam wanted him to eat and he knew that he should.

“Okay.” He gave in without a fight and wiped away what was left of his tears before Sam could see his face. Benedict managed about half of the soup and the crackers before he decided he was done. “I can’t eat anymore, it’s too much.” He snuggled closer to Sam, hoping he wouldn’t protest.

Sam laughed a little bit, running his hand through Benedict’s hair in an attempt to comfort him. 

There was a sense of relief that he didn’t quite understand when he had Sam close to him. It just felt like it was right like they were meant to be close like this. He tilted his head so that he could rest it on top of the other man’s and listened as he spoke. Benedict didn’t know how to respond, but he held Sam tighter and tried his best to convey some sort of comfort. He’d never been great with emotions, his or other people’s.

He didn’t even realize he was crying until he spoke. “It’s okay to be scared. This is all…a lot. It’s too much, honestly.” He tried to blink back the tears that kept coming. What did it mean that things hadn’t been okay for a long time? How bad were they? “Maybe…maybe this is a good thing. Maybe I’ll never remember anything and we can just start over.” He wanted to remember but maybe it would be better if he didn’t.

Sam was silent at that, trying to remember their lives before the war and before the drinking. Before everything. It all seemed so far away, as though it had happened to someone else.

If there was one thing that Benedict had learned from dealing with his own father, it was how to put on a show. How to pretend that everything was okay when not behind closed doors. He knew that he could do it well enough to tolerate one meal with the elder Samuel, he just hoped the other man didn’t do anything to set him off. His temper had always been something he had a more difficult time controlling when provoked.

“Of course not, sir. After all, what would be the point of providing for a family if you’re never around to spend time with them?” He gave the other man a small, but sure, smile. “My father always taught me that if you’re not home in time for dinner then you’ve put work before your family and that’s one of the worst things any man can do. We’ve had dinner together every night since our wedding. There’s always tomorrow to finish what couldn’t be done today.”

Samuel Sr. studied him for a moment before letting out a deep belly-laugh. He gave Benedict a solid pat on the shoulder as he did so, taking a moment to collect himself. 

It broke his heart to know that he was the reason that Sam was crying. He wished that there was some way for him to fix everything. For them to go back to however things were before so that it was okay again.

At his husband’s request, he shifted the tray so it was further down, no longer concerned with eating. He took Sam’s hand in his own when he sat and gave it a small squeeze. “Yes, of course, there is.” Benedict sounded like he was close to tears as well. But he didn’t want to cry in front of Sam, though he wasn’t sure why, and he didn’t want to make things worse than they already were.

Sam climbed into the bed with him, curling up gently into his husband’s side as though he fit there perfectly. He lay his head against Benedict’s shoulder, reaching over and gently taking his hand between his own. He lay there silently for a moment before speaking.