Sam Wilson (
sizeofyourbaggage) wrote in
thecapitol2015-02-27 04:09 pm
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my head's under water
Who| Sam Wilson and OPEN + closed threads for Initiate, Bucky, and Porrim
What| finding friends and trying to find his state of mind
Where| In the lobby of the Tribute Tower
When| After Sam’s death in the arena
Warnings/Notes| Discussions of death, violence, nightmares, and PTSD; will update with others if needed! Prompts for closed threads in the comments.
On the way up from where he’d woken up to the district suites, Sam’d noticed the blanket and pillow fort occupying part of the lobby. He’d passed it by then, because he wasn’t quite suited for company yet. He’d practically let Arya kill him, and he knows it, and he’s still not balanced enough to honestly be able to tell if it was because he refused to kill a little girl just to keep himself alive for a little bit longer, or if he was just that messed up at the moment.
Sam needed to get himself sorted, as much as he could, and once he was, he had people he needed to check on.
But a day or so after his return, he’s back down in the lobby, checking it out. He looks around for anyone who might be using it, or who’s nearby, so he can head over to them to ask who’d built it, or if they wouldn’t mind some company.
If he can’t find anyone, he’ll just make himself at home, until someone joins him or asks what he thinks he’s doing.
What| finding friends and trying to find his state of mind
Where| In the lobby of the Tribute Tower
When| After Sam’s death in the arena
Warnings/Notes| Discussions of death, violence, nightmares, and PTSD; will update with others if needed! Prompts for closed threads in the comments.
On the way up from where he’d woken up to the district suites, Sam’d noticed the blanket and pillow fort occupying part of the lobby. He’d passed it by then, because he wasn’t quite suited for company yet. He’d practically let Arya kill him, and he knows it, and he’s still not balanced enough to honestly be able to tell if it was because he refused to kill a little girl just to keep himself alive for a little bit longer, or if he was just that messed up at the moment.
Sam needed to get himself sorted, as much as he could, and once he was, he had people he needed to check on.
But a day or so after his return, he’s back down in the lobby, checking it out. He looks around for anyone who might be using it, or who’s nearby, so he can head over to them to ask who’d built it, or if they wouldn’t mind some company.
If he can’t find anyone, he’ll just make himself at home, until someone joins him or asks what he thinks he’s doing.
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So he takes advantage of the comfort now. Like things as like this, what he could never get away with on Alternia, but are real nice here, no one batting a goddamn lash.
"No shit?" He says. "THAT'S GOOD YOU GOT STICKING DOWN, YO." He could mention what it feels like, and what it doesn't. A gap in the memory most clear, but a sense of ill. A sense of being so damn hungry it hurts like nothing else. Sam'll be just fine not knowing that.
He shrugs on back. "Was one of your first times." He's assuming. "TOOK ME A PERIGEE AT TO GET IT DONE RIGHT. I'd always forget as to take the head off or strike 'em down in the dirt. LET ME TELL YOU, ON IN MY HIVE WHILE I WAS KICKING IT IN THE RECOOPERACOON, I LET A DAYWALKER GET RIGHT UP IN MY MOTHERFUCKING BUSINESS. Had to scramble bare-ass to get a cull on without my clubs near. WEREN'T NO KIND OF PRETTY, FOR TRUE, HAHA." He'd screamed. He'd screamed fuckin loud. Had to his coon out for getting out the blood and sleep dry.
It's a light story. Or, he thinks it is. He hopes it shakes Sam of some of that guilt. Motherfucking deserve such things when he'd done not but good. "It's chill, brother. NOT EASY TO TELL DEAD FROM DEAD WHEN'S THEY'S IN REST." And besides, when he'd called for the deal, he'd entrusted Sam with a thing much worse than a rogue daywalker. This wasn't on him. But it's nice to know it was remembered. "Just glad I didn't eat you." Or Albert. He's grateful for that alone. He still needs to find the man. They promised to paint...
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Honestly, that probably shouldn’t be a light story, but it makes Sam grin a little, anyway. He’s a soldier, and that sounds like a war story to him. The good kind of war story, the kind of thing that sucked at the time but you were able to laugh about later, talking shit with fellow soldiers. Not the kind that was quiet and sober and came out only when you couldn’t let it fester anymore.
It was Sam’s second time, technically, but that’s not the part he wants to respond to. “You let something catch you with your pants down?” he teases. “Tell me you learned your lesson after that, don’t be like the dumbass I was stationed with once who never learned not to sleep buckass naked.”
He shrugs a little when Kurloz says it’s difficult to tell when they’re really down. Sam can’t argue with that, and really, of all the things he’s twisted up over, that’s pretty low on the last. “Me too. Otherwise we’d have to have a really different conversation right now, and I got a lot more important things to talk to you about.”
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"Don't got no recooperacons or no sopor in Capitol though, so we sleep up in piles of..." He thinks. "Well, anything really, and ain't no need to strip for that. SO YEAH, GUESS I DID LEARN AFTER ALL." There were a lot of reasons as why, under the paint, there were dark circles around his eyes as the time away from his last deaths wore on.
But now's the end of light conversation, onto some of the other reasons he looks beat when he can put on his true face. He breathes deep, and though his smile's still on, he readies for something to steal.
"Figured you would. HEAR CARTILAGE UP AND OPEN, BROTHER."
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He gets the feeling.
But like he said, there's more important things he needs to talk to him about.
"Usually when I got a ton of things I need to bring up I make a list, you know? But I didn't have time for that." He should have, really, but all he'd thought about was finding the people he needed to check in with, the ones he cared most about.
Well. That's a decent starting point, at least.
"You and me, we need to get one thing clear. I said I'd take you out if I needed to, and I still mean it. But what you asked me to do back in that ice cave, to leave you like that and let you go it alone? Ain't never going to happen. Maybe one day you'll get it through your head that you are my own, Kurloz, but until then? You need to understand that that's one way I won't follow you."
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He's not surprised that what should come would pull his smile away. He takes it in with a sigh.
"I would've been fine you know. TAKES MORE TO CULL ME. Trolls lose limb all the time, it's rare as a motherfucker don't. IT'S-- YOU DIDN'T NEED AT TO USE YOUR MED KIT ON ME, YOU COULD'VE USED IT UP ON YOU! Alternians don't do the motherfucking thing where as like your kind's taking care of each other. I TAKE CARE OF ME. I've always taken care of me."
And he's done it alone. Mirth, he had so many people now, so many motherfuckers what he cares about. And he needs them, he does. But not to survive. He said as much to Terezi once way back when. You think I need you? I was just fine being a monster before you... The only thing he needs others for is his sanity.
"I KNOW WHAT AT YOU'RE THINKING AND IT AIN'T WHAT'S THE HAPS. I don't look to die. I GAVE MY WORD TO TEREZI, TO SIGNLESS, TO A WHOLE MOTHERFUCKING BUNCH. And by Messiahs, I will not so sinfully waste what gifts have been bestowed on me. YOU AIN'T GOTTA WORRY ABOUT ME." He breathes deep and huffs. "Maybe just you'd have been fine. BUT THE PSIIONIIC DIDN'T NEED ON BEING THERE. Shouldn't all up and have been as by me, him."
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"Not what I was thinking, man. It was rash, and overkill, but I don't think you did it because you were looking to die. I think you did it because you were looking for the best way out of a crappy situation and you went to extremes, because you had to do something and you needed to take care of yourself. And I don't think that's something I'm gonna change by telling you that it doesn't have to be that way, or by telling you how damn stupid it was."
Because it was stupid, and Sam would really like to yell at him, but he knows it isn't going to do any good.
"I don't doubt that you could've taken care of yourself, brother, but the thing is? You don't have to, not all the time. And you sure as hell can't ask me to let you, because it's never going to happen."
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Lines like how he can't become a better person if the people he cares for are offing themselves. Lines like not pushing his faith upon Terezi. Not trying to control the fact that Signless is a fucking freak what does his quadrants crazy and can't stop pitying the whole damn world.
He used to have a lot more fight in him. He remembers this sort of thing would have him up on edge, snapping. He'd be telling Sam there ain't nothing to let because it's how he motherfucking works and there'd be threat to follow. Mirth, maybe he'd just straight up storm off, saying how he doesn't need anybody and the lot of them all could fuck right off. But he's not got that fight. He likes Sam, and he needs Sam, and this sucks but he might as well make it short. Or at least explain himself.
"I AIN'T KNOW HOW. I don't motherfucking know what ways as to be just letting shit." And even more than that... "MIGHT BE AS I CAN'T. Being as I'm at to be, might just be more piece than I can motherfucking give. MAYBE. I don't fuckin know."
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But being who he is, being the guy who tries to support other people, who tries to take their hurt into himself? He's also learned that the ones he has, he has to stick to. And he will never be able to turn his back on someone he cares about like that, and let them go it alone.
Sam shakes his head, reaches out to give Kurloz's shoulder a little shove. "Nah, I don't believe that. Never say can't."
Then he lets out another exhale, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "I ain't expecting you to just roll over and let me take care of things, man. I respect you, and I trust you. I'm just saying remember this conversation the next time shit happens and I'm ready to have your back, and you think about telling me that you're fine, that I don't need to be there."
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"AIN'T WANT TO MAKE YOU QUESTION WHAT TRUST YOU GOT," He says. "But you know I ain't so good or able at for things as maybe you're thinking." It felt like there was a lot of things he couldn't do. Or couldn't do right by. But the protest isn't strong. He doesn't actually want to ward nobody off.
"OKAY," He says though, still. "I'll try. PRETTY GOOD MEMORY." It was just the keeping such things to heart, stomping down on what reactions was being knee-jerk. What was being things motherfucking ingrained and carved up in his pan.
"And when I say as I got two medkits what ain't been used, you'll hear that right?" He tries on teasing, just to lighten things.
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No matter how exasperated Sam might get.
The teasing makes him grin, though, giving an amused huff as he shakes his head. "Yeah, yeah, I'll hear it. You're not the only one who's used to things being a certain way."
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It's easier knowing he'll fuck up, knowing that Sam'll still be there even despite. Easier and harder, because he knows if he does fuck up, he's going to be wanting on getting far from everyone as what he can because he never saw a bridge he didn't burn like that.
But he doesn't know how to respond with it. His eyes go down instead and he doesn't say anything at all.
At least until the teasing breaks through and Sam pulls on a grin. He smiles back, then ends up laughing however awkwardly, "HEH, RIGHT. Sorry. GOT A MOTHERFUCKING POINT THERE."
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Instead, he pushes his hands into his pockets, runs a thumb over the seam on the inside of his jeans. "I ran into those caves because I heard Riley's voice. I knew it was probably a trap, I know the gamemakers tricks, but I went anyway." It's easy, saying that. Sam has the feeling that shit like that is probably how most of them ended up in the caves.
The hard part is the next bit, because Sam wanted to believe he was better than that. "I hoped it was him. I thought -" He looks away, voice lowering a little. "Other people got their best friends back, even if they weren't the same, why can't I have mine? And it wasn't right, and I didn't really mean it, but I still thought it."
Sam swallows hard, hands curling into fists. "I thought I'd moved past that, but I - I backtracked, real damn hard. I'm not proud of it, but I've gotta own it."
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What follows that cuts even deeper. It hits right at home.
"Oh Sam..." He says quiet. He turns and doesn't bother asking this time, just wraps Sam up in a hug. Maybe Sam doesn't think he deserves it, but the Initiate's pretty sure he does. But then he steps back.
"I'M SORRY," He says. "They got you up off guard. AND MAYBE I DID TOO." He'd not exactly warned Sam that Mituna was back. Maybe because it felt wrong to mention at all. The Psiioniic wasn't his friend. The Helmsman had been. "Think like it's easy to just wish as something didn't happen. THAT THEM WHAT YOU NEED WAS NEVER GONE. Never hurt none. S'LIKE, YOU CAN FIX IT NOW. Make right of what's all wrong up with things. UP INSIDE." Because that's what they all really wanted, wasn't it? To clear their sins. To heal their wounds.
He swallows hard. This isn't any easier for him to talk about than he figures it is for Sam.
"Me? THOUGHT I COULD GO BACK. Thought I'd go on Alternia, stop him ever having been hurt. SEE HIM FREE AND SAFE. And I thought I'd be okay with that, even if he came back without my doing. MY BEST FRIEND IS GONE. But he's own motherfucker now." His arms go out and drop by his sides. "SOMEONE ELSE BEING UP IN PLACES SAMELIKE. I don't know that they wouldn't try. DON'T KNOW THAT THEY WOULDN'T REGRET OR TAKE JOY UP IN. It's not like this shit happens no ways else often. MAYBE YOU FUCKED UP. But I don't know if there's being ways particular as not to like this. NO WAY IT AIN'T GOING TO HURT. But I get it. DON'T BLAME YOU. Don't figure any motherfucker would. SORRY IT CAME ON OUT LIKE THAT." He looks down. "I ain't know how to work what magics nice as all to be making good of this as you do, but I can listen, if you're needing."
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It's obvious that Kurloz is hurting, having Psiioniic around, and Sam wouldn't blame him if he did get pissed off at Sam for wanting something like that. Out of the arena, away from the caves and without Riley's voice screaming at him, Sam knows it isn't what he wants. He doesn't want Riley here, in the games, having to go through all of this. And he feels guilty for even thinking about being jealous of something that's causing Kurloz pain.
But like Kurloz is saying, sometimes he still wishes it'd never happened, that there was some way that he could fix it. Four years later and there's still a part of him that wants to wake up to Riley kicking him for sleeping in too long.
"Thanks," he says quietly, when Kurloz says he doesn't blame him. "You're right, though. Sometimes we all wish something like this could just be easy, but it never is. I never found anything that didn't come from working long and hard." He gives a shaky smile. "End result is usually pretty damn good though."
Sam lets out an exhale, nodding. "I fucked up," he agrees. "But I think I just needed to tell you." He runs a hand over his jaw. "I can't go around telling you that you're going to backtrack, but you gotta own it and get yourself back on the path if I won't do the same when it happens to me, right?"
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He won't say anything like maybe we can bring him back, maybe after war... That's too much hope. Too much false hope. And it's just as what's being said, shit ain't never being that easy. Easy ain't being a thing what all it is.
But he's right. It's something what he can relate to for what's been all his life. Lot of hard work. He hopes the payoff's as good as Sam says.
He's all looking to bump his knuckles up against Sam, show it's alright, for all what fucking ups got done, it ain't nothing grievous. And moreover, he's way down for being told about shit needs telling. Then it's all turned back on him again and he has to give a rueful laugh. "AIGHT, I HEAR YOU, BROTHER."
He sighs. "I guess I still got my habits. GOT MY WORRIES UP IN HERE. First instinct's being of me and mine up alone. BUT ONCE PAST THAT I KNOW AT I CAN TRUST YOU. So, we both lose our games. BUT AT LEAST THERE'S BEING MORE ROUNDS WHAT TO PLAY, YEAH? Got all the chance to make right, you and I. ME AND MOTHERFUCKING YOU. Ever need anything from me, I'll be there. FAMILY, YO." He starts to grin. "'Sides, as far as fuck ups seem like to go, you still got shit sailing pretty damn smooth. THE FUCK YOU EVEN LEARN THAT MAGIC FROM, I ASK YOU? Some kind of motherfucking miracle."
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He grins a little at Kurloz’s laugh, glancing sidelong at him. There was no way he wasn’t going to slip that in there. Even Sam isn’t sure if he’d told Kurloz about what happened at the caves because he needed to tell him or because he wanted to offer an example, that even people who’re supposed to be good guys fail.
It’s always easier giving up pieces of himself if it’s for a purpose.
Sam quirks a small, wry smile. “A few years of doing not a lot else other than working on it, and a damn good therapist that I actually trusted. Hard to find.” Anywhere, but especially around here. “It’s tough as hell breaking out of old habits and remembering you got people you trust to help out now, especially when shit’s going down. I gotta remember that.”
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"CAUSE ALL WORK'S STILL TO BE GETTING AT BY IT," he finishes for Sam. That's what Sam said always. Shit was a work in progress, a thing what to be got at perpetual. Sometimes a little motherfucking daunting up for it. But worth it, like he said.
"Tell me on about that noise sometime?" He says, or asks really. "FIGURING YOU AIN'T MEANING THERAPEUTICS SPEECH DONE AS LIKE WHAT I'M KNOWING." And still suck most surely at. He's glad, a bit, that he never really did end up getting anywhere progressional by it. He'd have been pretty pissed finding he'd done work as to lose it all again by his resets.
He shrugs his shoulders, that grin still hanging around. "Done well by you. GOTTA GET MY ASS LEARNED UP ON YOUR HUMAN HABITS BOUNTEOUS UP ANYWAYS. Since, I figure I'll be living with you a long motherfucking time." Even if it winded up being too close as to pale or otherwise, he could appreciate the knowing of such things. "AND FUCK YEAH, BROTHER. I'm gonna be by you."
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And his smile lights up a little, at Kurloz’s request. “Yeah, I doubt what I’ve got is anything like what’s back on Alternia, or what they’ve got here. But hell yeah, I’ll tell you about it.” He knows better than to try to play therapist to him - more than he already has - but he’s been looking for an excuse try to give Kurloz some kind of coping mechanisms for a while now.
“You’re damn right, you’re gonna be.” Sam shouldn’t take that as a promise, not when it’s not something either of them can guarantee, but hearing Kurloz say it gives off its own warmth, anyway.
He leans back a little, considering. “I got a lot of things I learned over the years, ways to help me cope with all this. Managing grief, anger, keeping myself grounded in reality when shit gets tough. Figuring out how to keep from obsessing over the past without just forgetting about it. It’s… easier getting into the habit of doing it when you got someone else to help you practice. If you want - and you don’t gotta say answer now, you can take the time to think about it - we can work on stuff together.”
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He nods along with the explanation as it comes. Grief, anger-- he looks surprised at the grounded in reality part. That's not something he could've figured Sam to know the other side of, or that it'd be fixed. He knew the voices of Messiahs were real but... sometimes they weren't. Sometimes they weren't all real and the colors bled and he lost himself. He hasn't much talked about that. He was crazy. It was just how things was.
But Sam makes like it doesn't half to be. He's gotten better dealing with his past, but his future still loomed, always, and he never figured a way to let go without forgetting that none. His mouth has come to falling open just a little as he stares.
"WI-WITH YOU?" He starts. He wants it. He's been leaning in as Sam spoke. He can't hardly remember what being sane feels like, but to maybe feel okay in some sense... Just one really big damn problem. His ears flush indigo and fold down, though it ain't to be seen none through the hair. It shows instead in the unsure tilt of his shoulders. "You gotta motherfucking understand," He says slow. "THIS ALL WHAT YOU IS SAYING AT TO ME? You helping me? BY TROLL RECKONING. Well, it sounds really damn pale. ROMANTIC."
He looks apologetic. He doesn't want to make Sam all getting uncomfortable on with him, but it needs saying. "Even if I didn't have a moirail. AND EVEN IF THERE WASN'T BEING THAT SHIT WITH HEL- THE PSIIONIIC AND WHAT ALL ELSE. I just don't want things to get on complicated at with us, you feel me?" And Sam being human, it would absolutely be complicated if such feelings came to be. Mirth he hopes Sam understands. He thinks, but doesn't say, thing is, I could wind up liking you a lot. He says, "IT'D BE BAD." For the both of them. And he's really content with what they have now. "So... if we do such things as you is saying... WITH YOU BEING THE ONE DIRECT AT TO HELP... it has to be really, really motherfucking slow."
He holds his breath. He swallows hard. "BUT I'D LIKE TO. At least just to know..."
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This is absolutely not what he'd been expecting. He stares for a moment, as his brain tries to catch up with the initial jump from 'let's do some counseling strategies together' to 'romance.' Once it does, once he gets over the romance part and gets to the gist of what Kurloz is saying - well, honestly, Sam can't blame him. He kind of is cutting things a little closer here.
"Is this you giving me the troll equivalent of 'it's not you, it's me?'" he asks, only partly teasing. Then he makes a face at himself. "Nah, don't answer that. Look, I-"
He cuts off, running a hand over his jaw as he tries to get his thoughts in order enough to give voice to them. "I admit that I haven't been doing as well as I should here, with not blurring the lines. You're not supposed to try to be a counselor to your friends, but here I am. It's never been a problem before here, you know, it wasn't like I even had all that many for it to be an issue, but-"
And another cut off. But he does here, and this is the only way he knows how to help them. And they sure as hell aren't going to be able to get it through the Capitol. "What I'm trying to say is, I gotta be careful, too. And I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. So if you don't want to go there, I'm okay with that. If you want to give it a shot, and just... tell me if I'm doing something that'd complicate things for you, I'm okay with that, too."
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He finds himself a little confused, if only because he assumed, with humans, there wasn't being any lines. It was all just mishmashes of everything as to fuck a motherfucker up but only all of it got being paramount to human matespritship and all else was just... all everything else. He didn't know there was rules. It makes the whole thing as Sam says sound like Pale Hire but he doesn't want to think Sam like that, especially when it ain't really true. This was simply him being alien.
"I... HAHA, FUCK." His hand goes up to rub at his neck and he's gotta divert his gaze. Never. Never, ever did he see himself getting caught up conversational in a thing like this.
He breathes deep. "...I want to... BUT I FEEL AS LIKE I SHOULDN'T. Because it's not a thing as you should be doing. AND I GOT A MOIRAIL. And... I already... like you a lot more than what I maybe should..." There. He said it. "I'M SCARED. I'm always being scared of such things but I really don't motherfucking want at it to happen with you. NOT-NOT CAUSE YOU AIN'T NO GOOD! But..." Fuck. FUCK. Fuck his Mirth damned life.
Another deep breath. "IF WE'S FRIENDS, EVERYTHING'S BEING GOOD AND NICE AND CHILL. If I wind up liking you like that, it's not gonna be none of that. IT WOULD HURT. A lot. BUT FOR ALL AS IT'S BEING THAT, I STILL WANT TO HEAR ON IT. At the very motherfucking least. I'M BEING SERIOUS ON LEARNING YOUR HUMAN THINGS. And I wouldn't mind learning about all them secrets as you're knowing too. SO, I GUESS WHAT AT I'M SAYING IS, YEAH. I kinda wanna hear it out." A beat passes. He smiles all fear and a little bit of hope. "...JUST DON'T GET ON BEING TOO CHARMING, YOU DIG?"
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But on the same level. If it weren’t for the only having one moirail thing, Sam wouldn’t really have thought anything of it. Steve and Nat are there, too, just, well. In a very different way. Jet and Albert are his brothers, too, but somehow that feels different as well, and Bucky… yeah, Sam doesn’t even know where to start with Bucky. Maybe that’s the closest.
Which is another thing - Sam wouldn’t have thought to divide them all up like that, try to categorize what they all meant to him when all that mattered for the moment was that it was ‘a lot.’ Too much, maybe, in Kurloz’s case. Sam isn’t sure where the lines are here, but he’s worried he’s already stepping over them. If he’s being honest, he’s kind of worried that he wants to step over them more than he wants to respect them. That the way he feels about the guy and the nature of their friendship is already crossing over into moirail territory, and even thinking about that… he doesn’t want to change it.
And yet, he doesn’t say any of that. Maybe he should, maybe he should just be honest with Kurloz, because God knows Sam’s usually big on honesty being the best policy. But really, he can’t see what good it’ll do. Sam’s human. He isn’t trying to be Kurloz’s moirail, wouldn’t even know what to do with it if he was. All he wants to do is be his friend, be his brother in arms, and maybe try to give him some of the building blocks that Sam’s had to work with, trying to make sense of things these past few years.
Especially that last part. If Sam tells him, maybe Kurloz’ll pull away, maybe he won’t want to work on coping mechanisms. And shit, he needs them just as much as Sam did, especially in a place like this. That’s more important than anything else Sam might have to say.
So he quirks a little smile. “You’re asking me not to be charming, really?” he teases gently. “But I got you, man. Like I said, I don’t want to do anything that’ll complicate things for you. So we’ll go slow, we’ll be careful, and you tell me to knock it off whenever. Just think of it like me giving you some tools and showing you how to use them, but it’s gonna be up to you to build the foundation.”
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It ain't his place, none of it. Sam needed not to have Riley's place trampled upon, wounds torn. Mituna needed someone what wasn't him. Signless needed all as many motherfuckers as he seemed on thinking he needed. He can't hurt them like that. And still more relevantly, he couldn't do that for a human what, as Jane had so proven to him, no matter how close and much it seemed like them romancings was being the same, it wasn't. That memory still stings. "Do you hate me or not?" "...No."
He really is already too deep if he's gotta find reasons as to make this not be. When he really works his motherfucking thinkpan, he knows that. But what can he really do? Nothing. Just feel real motherfucking relieved when Sam answers all like that.
It shows in his smile, in his laugh. "I know it must be so motherfucking hard for you. ALL SUCH THINGS DAMN NEAR IMPOSSIBLE," He teases in turn.
He listens along and nods. The ball of nerves what's formed up in his guts is loosening up again. Slow, easy, careful. They could manage this. He could manage that. And, fuck, he might just makes Signless and all everybody proud with what at he's learned. "Sounds bitchin," He says, swallowing. "THANK YOU, BROTHER."
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But if things were different, he might want to try to other reasons.
It doesn't matter, though. Things aren't different, and that's the way it is. The best Sam can do is keep going the best he knows how, and hope he doesn't end up making things work.
"Anytime, man." He reaches out, pushing at Kurloz's shoulder with a little grin. "And you're always gonna be my brother, okay? Ain't nothing going to make me go running, so don't be afraid to tell me this kind of shit."
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It's not all a lie.
He shakes his head though, laughing a little as Sam shoves at him. Always gonna be my brother. Sounds so nice as to be up in his hear cartilage.
"One thing you ought know, motherfucker, I am all is always afraid," He says with a laugh. "IT'S KEEPING THIS TRAP SHUT WHAT'S BEING THE PROBLEM, IF YOU'D BE BELIEVING SUCH THINGS." He's sure Sam has. He's a talker and he knows it.
He's not sure what he'd say to Sam what to cross them lines. He might feel different if he knew. But he doesn't. It ain't a thing. Things aren't different and that's the way it is.
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