Sam is quiet. It's his natural state of being. He's stopped working on the fence, simply staying crouched with his hammer in his hand, thinking. Watching nothing in particular.
John can’t breathe for a second around that hope—as it expands and fucking explodes, drowning him in pure light.
No touch he’s ever felt has ever been like this.
Abandoning the fence for a moment, John shifts to crouch beside Sam. The world is too sharp and wobbly, tears burning in his eyes with something hot and sweet that he can’t bear to name for fear it’ll leave him.
John doesn’t know how to explain just how much Sam has given him with that single sentence. A confession to him, maybe, but to John it’s more potential for something precious than he’s ever had in his life. It’s knowing he’s not alone, knowing there’s a place he might fit and that’s more than he’s ever had. It’s potential, and John has never even come close to that before.
Not when it comes to being happy. Not when it comes to maybe, just maybe, being…
“All I want’s a door, Sam.” He finally confesses softly. “You can keep it closed, locked, barricaded…or you can leave it open so I can wait. Just…look in. Be close to you, know you’re okay. And I won’t walk through it unless you ask me to. If there’s a door—even a locked one—I’ll never be disappointed.”
"Door's there. Door's been there," Sam admits, only just on the edge of hearing. "Whether I realized it or not. 'cuz you've been good to me, John Rambo. Me n' the kid both."
John already has more of a foot in that proverbial door than he even realizes. Sam just doesn't know what to do with it yet. He doesn't want anything physical, he hasn't for a long time, not since his life and his little family was destroyed in an instant. He's sure that this is exacerbating the damage already done by the chiral exposure and making the phobia present more dramatically on his skin. But he knows he trusts John not to do anything more than this. He trusts the man implicitly.
He looks back at John, brow knitted, eyes less narrowed with the passing of clouds over the clear sky. Again it reveals that soft grey-blue of his eyes that reflect the colors of the world around him. "I can't make you promises, can't say anything one way or the other what I want anymore. I'm not gonna be like, you n' me, that's endgame. What I can do, here n' now, is keep bein' here. Keep talkin' with you. Just keep doin' what we are already."
“Then that’s good enough for me.” John assures him quietly, honestly, drawing the deepest, freest breath he’s taken in a long time. “That door—it’s the only promise I want. It’s the only one I’ll ever ask for. Open, closed, locked…whatever you feel you can give, you make the call. It’s…more than I could have hoped for. But…”
He smiles softly, and lifts his hand, palm up and open in invitation.
“There’s no door on my side. No walls, no boundaries. Maybe I build some down the line if I feel a need—but I don’t right now. Anything you want from me, Sam? You take it. Whenever you feel like it. No limits—and no quid pro quo, I’m not offering anything I ever expect to get back. This open hand is gonna sit here forever, even if you never wanna reach for it.”
He lets his hand drop, and he’s still smiling.
“I just…I want you. If that’s okay? That’s the only endgame I need.”
That hand hangs in the air just long enough that Sam very seriously considers taking it. But he doesn't move. There's just too much that holds him back, holds him still. So he lets the gesture be as it is, and accepts the words, always so carefully put out there to make sure that he was comfortable.
"Ain't a damn thing I need from you that you don't already give of your own volition. You already go so far outta your way for us. I'd never ask more of you than that. Well, 'cept maybe you holdin' that board straight," he jokes halfheartedly, shielding himself from the vulnerability with the humor that those that came before John had never really tolerated from him.
So he goes back to hammering, using the task at hand as a way to distract himself and turn over his thoughts. The silence is only broken by the sound of planks being nailed together for a long while, the breeze and the rustle of the dead leaves, birdsong here and there, until Sam says thoughtfully, "y'know, never pegged you soldier types for...y'know. Got shit for gay-dar I guess."
The wisecrack gets a laugh and a joking salute as John rises from his crouch to hold the next board for Sam. For a little bit, it’s just that…and despite diffusing the intensity of the situation, everything still feels heavy somehow—and John feels more relaxed than he has in years.
Then he comes at him with that observation and John is grinning again.
“Nah, you’re fine—I’m just not gay. Not really.” He admits. “I mean…long as I can remember, I’ve always liked everything. Guys and girls both, I mean—but back where I come from? You…y’know…you can’t. So I just kept that shit quiet. Wasn’t even sure it was a thing till I got here. Thought I was just messed up in the head—that it was just me.”
Sam makes a soft, thoughtful sound as he wiggles the board as soon as it's secured in place to make sure that it's set firm there.
"Knew a guy like that, before. His name was John too actually. We all called 'im Die-Hardman though. Codename, kinda thing. Guy loved his commanding officer enough to betray the president for him. When she died he was talkin' about how he loved her too though. Dunno if it was the same but it kinda makes sense. You do some stupid shit for love, doesn't matter what you're battin' for."
That gets a raised eyebrow from John--but he does get it, after a fashion.
These days, he knows better.
"I was prolly like that when I was younger." he admits. "But I got smart--starting to realize that's why they weren't big on us getting too attached in training. Love makes people stupid, but if you can be smart when you love someone...you're fucking dangerous. That's when reactions, gut-check shit? It all becomes choices."
Not following orders. Not relying on training alone. Not responding without thinking.
Real loyalty. Real dedication. And speaking of love...
"How long you been at this?" John finally asks before Sam can move on to the next board. "C'mon, food and water. And munchkin if she's not off with one of her other boyfriends 'n girlfriends."
Meaning, of course, the babysitting brigade--look, Sam, your kid is adorable and John wants to hug the baby...
Sam is quiet as he listens, but he nods. He'd done enough stupid shit for the people that he cared about that he can't exactly get on his own high horse and claim that he was any better. He chose to give Fragile the killing blow. He chose to go to Heartman. He chose to claim Lou, to treat her like the child she was.
Given the time, he would have run away with her, rather than ever letting her be sent to the furnace.
"Since this morning," he replies quietly, happy to continue on with the work and get away from the heavier talk. "Figure if I get this done before spring, she'll be startin' to learn how to walk, n' I'd be able to let her hang around out here without bein' carried everywhere."
When the last post is secure though, he stands and swipes his hands across the seat of his trousers before leading the way inside. Lou is sleeping in a little secondhand bassinet just close enough to the window that she can see the sky. Hanging from a flexible branch secured by red twine, a windmill turns gently over her in the breeze let in from the open door.
"You know there ain't much," he points out. He's feeling the lack of food, though maybe not as acutely as most. He reaches into his little pantry for a jar of preserves, sent off with him by one of the old women on his route.
"I'll set a few more traps--and I'll bring by some of my catch." John assures him--and forestalls any argument with a raised hand.
"Try me, and I'll just leave it on your doorstep--or donate it to the communal pot in town that Palmer guy's got goin'. If you don't eat it, I won't eat it. Period."
Lowering his hand with a small smile, he crosses over to Lou's bassinet and leans over to just watch her for a second.
"Hey, princess." he whispers, barely audible as he reaches in to gently tuck her in a little more securely in, just hitching up her blankets a little. "You have extra good dreams for me, 'kay? Wanna see lots of smiles from my favorite girl when you wake up..."
Sam swipes at the hand, coming so close to making contact.
"Donate it to the pot, man. You know those people could use it a hell of a lot more than I can. If you have too much for them in a day then I'll take the rest, but they come first, and that, you're not allowed to argue with."
Sam lingers just inside, his arms crossing as he watches John approaching where Lou is sleeping in the froggy pajamas she'd been gifted. She's warm, safe, and barely reacts to John fussing that little bit over her. There's a softness to the man that only comes out when he's around the two of them, and them alone. Everyone else seems to cause him to tense up, like he's afraid of what they might do. It's heartbreaking on a deeply personal level.
"Don't go too far out of your way though, huh? Shit's gettin' weird lately." Well, weirder than usual.
The swipe just makes John grin, as does the admonishment.
"M' already helping the Palmer kid with the soup pot." he admits softly, so as not to wake Lou. "He hit me up after one of my rounds on the snares--taught him how to clean and dress game. Still think I'm gonna do it for him before I bring another batch around."
Kid's eager and friendly...but John's still not sure about putting a knife in his hand yet without decent supervision.
"As for goin' out of my way...you're not out of my way." he goes on, looking up from Lou and at Sam--and for the first time, he doesn't try to compose himself. The swell of affection he lets himself feel shows in his eyes.
You are my way. He wants to say it, but it's too much. Especially today--so he just looks down at Lou again and watches her eyes blink open. She focuses on him, coos happily--and as she blinks her eyes closed again, makes John laugh at how readily she just goes back to sleep once she's given him a drowsy little greeting.
"Surprised he was willing to learn how. He seems more the desk job type," Sam notes with a touch of amusement. "Probably better to do it for him, yeah. Maybe teach him how to do it with fish later, 's a little less involved."
John looks back at him after Lou has made herself comfortable in her bed again, and Sam...he can see it. He sees that look, that tenderness. He realizes that it's not just meant for her. It's a strange, somewhat terrifying thought, but not, perhaps, for reasons that John will fully understand if he tries to explain.
He looks back out at the snow, falling just fast enough to start really covering the ground out there and fill in the tracks coming up the path. He'd have to see about some form of paving leading down, when this first project is done... "You goin' back out there? Or you figure you wanna hang around a while, help me finish up the fence? Goes faster with two sets of hands."
John raises an eyebrow with a grin at Sam's assessment. "Hey, yeah--s' a good idea. I'll go with that, thanks."
The question--before, it would have given John pause. Now, looking at Sam, looking freely and knowing it's okay...he really doesn't have to think about it.
"You want me, you got me. I'd prefer to stay." he assures him. "Working or no...I like being here with you guys."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
winterfish
no subject
Date: 2024-01-24 12:38 am (UTC)"Pretty sure I'm just gonna disappoint you too."
no subject
Date: 2024-01-24 01:08 am (UTC)No touch he’s ever felt has ever been like this.
Abandoning the fence for a moment, John shifts to crouch beside Sam. The world is too sharp and wobbly, tears burning in his eyes with something hot and sweet that he can’t bear to name for fear it’ll leave him.
John doesn’t know how to explain just how much Sam has given him with that single sentence. A confession to him, maybe, but to John it’s more potential for something precious than he’s ever had in his life. It’s knowing he’s not alone, knowing there’s a place he might fit and that’s more than he’s ever had. It’s potential, and John has never even come close to that before.
Not when it comes to being happy. Not when it comes to maybe, just maybe, being…
“All I want’s a door, Sam.” He finally confesses softly. “You can keep it closed, locked, barricaded…or you can leave it open so I can wait. Just…look in. Be close to you, know you’re okay. And I won’t walk through it unless you ask me to. If there’s a door—even a locked one—I’ll never be disappointed.”
no subject
Date: 2024-01-24 11:02 pm (UTC)John already has more of a foot in that proverbial door than he even realizes. Sam just doesn't know what to do with it yet. He doesn't want anything physical, he hasn't for a long time, not since his life and his little family was destroyed in an instant. He's sure that this is exacerbating the damage already done by the chiral exposure and making the phobia present more dramatically on his skin. But he knows he trusts John not to do anything more than this. He trusts the man implicitly.
He looks back at John, brow knitted, eyes less narrowed with the passing of clouds over the clear sky. Again it reveals that soft grey-blue of his eyes that reflect the colors of the world around him. "I can't make you promises, can't say anything one way or the other what I want anymore. I'm not gonna be like, you n' me, that's endgame. What I can do, here n' now, is keep bein' here. Keep talkin' with you. Just keep doin' what we are already."
no subject
Date: 2024-01-24 11:47 pm (UTC)He smiles softly, and lifts his hand, palm up and open in invitation.
“There’s no door on my side. No walls, no boundaries. Maybe I build some down the line if I feel a need—but I don’t right now. Anything you want from me, Sam? You take it. Whenever you feel like it. No limits—and no quid pro quo, I’m not offering anything I ever expect to get back. This open hand is gonna sit here forever, even if you never wanna reach for it.”
He lets his hand drop, and he’s still smiling.
“I just…I want you. If that’s okay? That’s the only endgame I need.”
no subject
Date: 2024-01-26 04:43 am (UTC)"Ain't a damn thing I need from you that you don't already give of your own volition. You already go so far outta your way for us. I'd never ask more of you than that. Well, 'cept maybe you holdin' that board straight," he jokes halfheartedly, shielding himself from the vulnerability with the humor that those that came before John had never really tolerated from him.
So he goes back to hammering, using the task at hand as a way to distract himself and turn over his thoughts. The silence is only broken by the sound of planks being nailed together for a long while, the breeze and the rustle of the dead leaves, birdsong here and there, until Sam says thoughtfully, "y'know, never pegged you soldier types for...y'know. Got shit for gay-dar I guess."
no subject
Date: 2024-01-26 05:02 am (UTC)Then he comes at him with that observation and John is grinning again.
“Nah, you’re fine—I’m just not gay. Not really.” He admits. “I mean…long as I can remember, I’ve always liked everything. Guys and girls both, I mean—but back where I come from? You…y’know…you can’t. So I just kept that shit quiet. Wasn’t even sure it was a thing till I got here. Thought I was just messed up in the head—that it was just me.”
no subject
Date: 2024-01-26 07:54 pm (UTC)"Knew a guy like that, before. His name was John too actually. We all called 'im Die-Hardman though. Codename, kinda thing. Guy loved his commanding officer enough to betray the president for him. When she died he was talkin' about how he loved her too though. Dunno if it was the same but it kinda makes sense. You do some stupid shit for love, doesn't matter what you're battin' for."
no subject
Date: 2024-01-26 08:20 pm (UTC)These days, he knows better.
"I was prolly like that when I was younger." he admits. "But I got smart--starting to realize that's why they weren't big on us getting too attached in training. Love makes people stupid, but if you can be smart when you love someone...you're fucking dangerous. That's when reactions, gut-check shit? It all becomes choices."
Not following orders. Not relying on training alone. Not responding without thinking.
Real loyalty. Real dedication. And speaking of love...
"How long you been at this?" John finally asks before Sam can move on to the next board. "C'mon, food and water. And munchkin if she's not off with one of her other boyfriends 'n girlfriends."
Meaning, of course, the babysitting brigade--look, Sam, your kid is adorable and John wants to hug the baby...
no subject
Date: 2024-01-27 01:40 pm (UTC)Given the time, he would have run away with her, rather than ever letting her be sent to the furnace.
"Since this morning," he replies quietly, happy to continue on with the work and get away from the heavier talk. "Figure if I get this done before spring, she'll be startin' to learn how to walk, n' I'd be able to let her hang around out here without bein' carried everywhere."
When the last post is secure though, he stands and swipes his hands across the seat of his trousers before leading the way inside. Lou is sleeping in a little secondhand bassinet just close enough to the window that she can see the sky. Hanging from a flexible branch secured by red twine, a windmill turns gently over her in the breeze let in from the open door.
"You know there ain't much," he points out. He's feeling the lack of food, though maybe not as acutely as most. He reaches into his little pantry for a jar of preserves, sent off with him by one of the old women on his route.
no subject
Date: 2024-01-31 09:49 pm (UTC)"Try me, and I'll just leave it on your doorstep--or donate it to the communal pot in town that Palmer guy's got goin'. If you don't eat it, I won't eat it. Period."
Lowering his hand with a small smile, he crosses over to Lou's bassinet and leans over to just watch her for a second.
"Hey, princess." he whispers, barely audible as he reaches in to gently tuck her in a little more securely in, just hitching up her blankets a little. "You have extra good dreams for me, 'kay? Wanna see lots of smiles from my favorite girl when you wake up..."
no subject
Date: 2024-02-02 03:35 am (UTC)"Donate it to the pot, man. You know those people could use it a hell of a lot more than I can. If you have too much for them in a day then I'll take the rest, but they come first, and that, you're not allowed to argue with."
Sam lingers just inside, his arms crossing as he watches John approaching where Lou is sleeping in the froggy pajamas she'd been gifted. She's warm, safe, and barely reacts to John fussing that little bit over her. There's a softness to the man that only comes out when he's around the two of them, and them alone. Everyone else seems to cause him to tense up, like he's afraid of what they might do. It's heartbreaking on a deeply personal level.
"Don't go too far out of your way though, huh? Shit's gettin' weird lately." Well, weirder than usual.
no subject
Date: 2024-02-02 06:37 pm (UTC)"M' already helping the Palmer kid with the soup pot." he admits softly, so as not to wake Lou. "He hit me up after one of my rounds on the snares--taught him how to clean and dress game. Still think I'm gonna do it for him before I bring another batch around."
Kid's eager and friendly...but John's still not sure about putting a knife in his hand yet without decent supervision.
"As for goin' out of my way...you're not out of my way." he goes on, looking up from Lou and at Sam--and for the first time, he doesn't try to compose himself. The swell of affection he lets himself feel shows in his eyes.
You are my way. He wants to say it, but it's too much. Especially today--so he just looks down at Lou again and watches her eyes blink open. She focuses on him, coos happily--and as she blinks her eyes closed again, makes John laugh at how readily she just goes back to sleep once she's given him a drowsy little greeting.
no subject
Date: 2024-02-07 02:26 pm (UTC)John looks back at him after Lou has made herself comfortable in her bed again, and Sam...he can see it. He sees that look, that tenderness. He realizes that it's not just meant for her. It's a strange, somewhat terrifying thought, but not, perhaps, for reasons that John will fully understand if he tries to explain.
He looks back out at the snow, falling just fast enough to start really covering the ground out there and fill in the tracks coming up the path. He'd have to see about some form of paving leading down, when this first project is done... "You goin' back out there? Or you figure you wanna hang around a while, help me finish up the fence? Goes faster with two sets of hands."
no subject
Date: 2024-02-07 07:54 pm (UTC)The question--before, it would have given John pause. Now, looking at Sam, looking freely and knowing it's okay...he really doesn't have to think about it.
"You want me, you got me. I'd prefer to stay." he assures him. "Working or no...I like being here with you guys."
no subject
Date: 2024-02-09 09:50 pm (UTC)