knox is not as forthcoming with the gory details, but sam complements him in that way. so he's left to just watch her absorb the information. she takes it in such stride that knox thinks, lovingly, they're both insane. 

after, when they're walking out, knox is a little distant. a little quiet. his mouth is small, pressed in a thin line because he's thinking so hard. it takes him a second to realize sam is talking to him. and looking at him. he blinks and gives sam's hand a squeeze. 

honestly, he says. "i'm upset we don't have more time."

samuel carter

☉

so this is why sam's a weirdo. something about that single, dumb little thought makes the rest of the ice around knox melt. she's plain and frank and quite honestly, he loves it. he feels like he knows her - like he's known her. 

because he kind of has, through sam. 

so he allows himself to be drawn into the hug and, more than that, he gives her a squeeze back. he marvels at the warmth and finds he doesn't really know when to pull back. when he hugs sam, they tend to stick like that with each other for a while. 

"so you don't think my real self is polite?" he says with a lopsided smile and thinks, yes, now is an appropriate time to pull away. 

"but got it. i'll be me and you'll be you. and sam will be sam."

samuel carter

☉

knox beholds her. he beholds the mother he never had, the mother he's always wanted, and the mother he will never have. something gets caught in his throat and he blinks rapidly when his eyes smart, that meticulous mask crawling up his smile, stopping just under his eyes. luckily sam can't see. 

some of that light does flicker, though, when she says samuel and knox thinks holy fuck, i wonder what he'd do if i call him samuel?

but he's gonna save that one for later, because the reaction he's hoping for isn't appropriate and anyway he can't get any words out because sam is walking closer and he's being hugged and he's never really been hugged before. hugged by boyfriends and lovers and sam, but to be loved like this is foreign.

"hi, ms carter," he says with wide blue eyes. "glad we could finally come see you."

samuel carter

☉

my stars. his lips quirk. what'll sam's mom think of their pet names for each other? actually, as soon as he thinks that, he has some idea. sam's spoken about her so much knox feels like he has already met her. his nerves betray him, smile twinging. 

knox knows he's not joking. and he knows sam wouldn't ask him the question if he weren't asking for himself. he's never cared much about looking ridiculous so he nods and sidles behind sam. hands come up over his shoulders, draping over his front, and a soft hmm is all the warning he gives before he jumps up onto sam's back.

"and now you've got me," he says cheerily, chin propping on sam's shoulder. 

samuel carter

☉

knox does not like hospitals. sam knows this. knox knows that sam knows this, and that's why he's trying to be on his best behavior right now. that's why he's trying very hard to stop his hands from shaking and for his grimace to show. but the sounds and the smells and the stupid lights and the too-clean walls are a lot. 

they're walking down a corridor and it all looks the same because this is where they put the people who are going to die. knox was in a bed like this one, once upon a time. 

at least that had been his choice. 

sam didn't ask for this. sam's mom didn't ask for this. and yet they're here and everything fucking sucks. so knox frowns extra hard at the apologies, even though he knows sam doesn't think he's selfish for feeling the pressure, for feeling the anxiety.

he stokes his cheeks with his thumbs and says, in a far more measured voice than he thought currently capable, "don't worry about me. i got you, okay?"

samuel carter

☉

it doesn't seem like the time for casual romance, but he's a sucker and if this is what sam needs, it's what he needs. he's not going to argue over it. it's playful, the way he holds his head in his hands, but his words leave knox feeling anxious.

the last thing he's ever been for someone is a backbone. is someone to lean on. and the weight of that responsibility is probably the most terrifying thing in the world. 

he'll manage it for sam. he has to. 

so he kisses him back, lightly, and then kisses his cheeks for good measure. and then he untangles so he can call Summer Atreides to tell her they'll be indisposed for...a bit.

samuel carter

☉

there's little he can do to belay the fears of a man who's lived so close to the dead and the dying. this day shouldn't have come. not like this. over sam's shoulder, he stares forlornly at the forgotten bed, wishing they could both go back to last night.

but his life is a series of shitstorms with casual blips of light in between. he should have known not to get too comfortable. 

"not ending, just changing," he repeats and gives him one last squeeze before letting him go. captain has transferred shoulders now, realizing sam is not going to give her the attention she wants. so knox raises a hand and scratches under her chin while he surveys his rather impressive packing job. 

"anything else? i can call red for you too."

samuel carter

☉

he wants to grab sam and keep him in bed, to cuddle him close and make all of this go away. it feels like they just got their lives back. it feels like they have a life together, unburdened, for the first time ever. so, selfishly, he thinks he wishes this weren't happening. he wishes they could have stretched their little pocket of paradise a little bit longer. 

but life has a funny way of dumping knox prescott in shit. 

"okay," he says quickly and decides not to ask anymore questions. he'll handle this. he has to handle this. so he moves around and does things the way he imagines sam would: pick clothes out by outfit to make sure they have enough. bath products and toiletries go in their own bag and gently get lain on top of the bed. 

he takes his time, in between his whirlwind sprint to get them packed, to kiss away sam's tears. captain, hearing their ruckus from wherever she was, noses her way into the bedroom and leaps onto the bed. her nose twitches, smelling the salt, sensing sam's distress, and goes to leap on his shoulder and give him a nuzzle.

"she'll be there," knox says lowly as he folds sam in a hug. 

samuel carter

☉

he peppers kisses on his shoulder. soft and slow. not enough to distract him, or to overwhelm him, but it's really the only way knox knows how to tell him he's there. words are still hard sometimes and he doesn't trust himself right now to say the right thing. 

"of course. whatever you need." summer will be fine. they've wrapped up their fucking murder spree anyway. the company's taken more than enough of their time; she can grant them this. 

honestly, she'd probably throw a bitch fit if knox didn't drag him away sooner. 

"but there's nothing to settle. i'll text her. we go as soon as you're ready. here, let me start packing." he's saying a lot of things because they're what he should be saying, but he's a little panicky because sam is choking up and he's still not used to all those emotions flooding out of him like this. 

and after this? 

don't worry about that now. he rolls up and immediately goes to their dresser to grab some outfits.

"um, how much do you want me to pack?" how long are we staying?

samuel carter

☉

regrettably, the last of those hazy minutes drift away. he's alert, especially now that he definitely knows something is wrong. sam's face is pinching in the way it does when he's trying not to look the way he's feeling, or he's struggling to convey what he's feeling, or just, like, it's bad. 

and then oh shit. 

knox's stomach drops. when they'd talked about his mom last, the bubble had been up. they talked about it curled around each other, waiting for the world to end so they could die tangled up like dumb romantics, and waiting for the after.

then the after came and went and knox should have said something. he should have pushed for them to have their silly little vacation. 

but maybe he's just overreacting. (but he knows he's not. sam doesn't get shaken. sam doesn't look like this.)

"when do we leave?" he says, relaxing his sultry hold to something more comforting. 

samuel carter

☉

alarm bells start ringing in his head when sam doesn't put the phone down and immediately start paying attention to him. his response, though, is still first and foremost driven by his morning wood. so he squeezes closer, teeth grazing sam's shoulder because he knows what that does to him, but his voice finally breaks the spell.

his brows furrow slowly, still sleepily, and he draws back. confused, he looks from sam's face to the phone and only gets more confused.

"are we going somewhere? what's wrong?"

samuel carter

☉

knox has never been a heavy sleeper, but like all the other things sam has changed, this is one of them. that and he's been back on his bullshit since taking up some of the cleanup for the fallout with merrick. samuel carter and Summer Atreides had been killing themselves over it and he couldn't live with himself if he let them go through it alone.

so xanax helps him sleep. ambien when it gets really bad, though only if sam's going to be out on a job overnight too. he gets weird on ambies. 

he's practically dead to the world when sam comes back into the room. his body does reflexively turn towards him, nosing for that source of heat. one arm finds its way over what ought to have been sam's chest, but instead drapes over the top of his shoulders and his neck. 

feeling something off is what rouses him. his sleepy blue eyes droop open, confused noise humming from his throat. he flexes, feels sam, and then ducks under the covers as well.

whatever sam is doing, it's not as important as the flush of warmth and contentment that lines his body. still only half-awake, he places sloppy kisses along sam's jawline; one leg folds over him needily. 

samuel carter

☉