the climb isn't like it was before. it may be nerves. it may be foreboding. it may be something as childish as the fact that sam hadn't texted him back. he'd set up the appointment, but he can still remember the gut-wrenching feeling he'd had, the anxiety attack that had come upon him, at their last meeting. 

he doesn't keep up with current affairs, not when his world is so small, so he hasn't seen the coverage showing clips of sam, alongside other heroes, protecting the region from the fury of legends. 

it's early morning. knox wouldn't consider himself an early riser as much as he would an insomniac. but the circles have lightened since the last time he'd met with the strange ferryman. his withdrawal symptoms have been kept at bay, for now.

it's with a clear head that he approaches the base of the mountain. he takes the soft hand of one of sam's gardevoirs; captain does too. and then pikachu and trainer are at the top of the mountain, glass doors sliding before them, an eclectic reception center welcoming them in.

samuel carter

☉

he does not expect to find himself greeted by sam. he'd anticipated a bit more time mentally preparing himself. that the man would be behind a closed door, seated at a desk, anywhere else but - 

here. 

and the shock of suddenly seeing him helps him chase away his anxieties. that's the thing about knox. he's good around people. and sam is people. so the charming smile comes out and he has a quipping remark, but then he notices the bandages, the scrapes and scratches, and the bruising. 

he closes his mouth, simpers, and says, "i see you didn't?" 

'that's today, isn't it?' ouch. that one still stings. he scratches the back of his head, about to tell sam that he's fine with rescheduling if need be, but captain clambers off of his back and hops over to sam so that she can sit at his feet. 

samuel carter

☉

captain certainly notices the change in sam right off the bat. she makes a squealing noise that knox has only ever heard her make around Summer Atreides and he watches with raised brows as she exposes her belly for more rubs. and now that she's content with her morning, and with the fact that knox is staying on the mountainside, she scampers off to curiously watch sam's ghost-types as they work.

he takes a cup and adds just a touch of cream. he's never been much of a fan of sweets. too sharp, too vivid. but the buzz, albeit unnecessary, is welcome to his brain. 

he looks at sam over the rim of his cup. "so what did? one of your ghosts try to drag you to an early grave?"

samuel carter

☉

hard as he might try to separate himself from the growing threats of the region (especially since he's part of one of them), it still comes back to wash over him. that new year's night yawns at the corner of his vision. but it's whisked away as he focuses all of his attention on sam.

it's easier now that he has some money in his pocket, now that he can buy pure. 

he knows that look - that far-away look that people get when they're thinking about the bad. the past and its hauntings, something he's all too familiar with. but he's the king of forgetting, and of moving on, and so it's his hands that settle sam's own. 

his own coffee is left abandoned on the table. sam's hands are warm. funny. he hadn't expected that. "if i knew that's what you were into, i wouldn't have waited so long to come see ya again."

he steps in front of sam's field of view. "you wanna head to your office or whatever? some place less...open?"

samuel carter

☉

and because he has no one when he is the one with shaking hands, with vision lost looking elsewhere, he must become that for someone else. he lives as he does so that one day, he might face his mirror, that one day someone kinder will offer him their solace. his methods, selfish as they may be, are still genuine.

so he follows wordlessly behind sam and he wonders at these newfound revelations. time travel. primal groudon. it wouldn't surprise him to know that summer knows all of this and more. she's content, like and their father, to control the family business, but all that power must intrigue her. 

as he enters sam's abode, he is struck by how humble it is. the couch and its pillows are lovingly well-worn, providing a comfort in a nostalgia he's not familiar with. he's never loved something so carefully before. 

he withdraws a couple of pokeballs from his hidden belt and drops them to the floor. they roll and then release their inhabitants before slapping back up into knox's waiting hands.

"pari, isla - meet sam." the electric-type rodents stand at attention and then approach the other trainer without caution. both of them scamper up into his lap and nestle. 

"something told me to bring them today. guess i know why." he takes a seat on the couch beside sam, closer to the opposite arm rest in case he wants space. 

"we can wait, if you'd like," he says. "the will, i mean. if you'd like to talk instead..." he trails off, looks up. 

samuel carter

☉

when he wants to forget something, when he wants to make the world make sense again, well, he finds someone willing and shuts the rest of the world out for a few hours. he doesn't offer that though. something about this is softer. more fragile. 

terrifying.

"work it is then." he splays his palms. "so let's talk about death." his smile is warm, lilting at the corners. 

samuel carter

☉

his smile widens into his signature, boyish grin. sam's laughter brings a lightness to the room and dispels an intensity knox hadn't even realized was there. suddenly the distance between them doesn't seem as irrevocable. 

that's it. let them walk away from the mysticism and the supernatural. let the world shrink until it's pressed to sam's office door, until they're the only two people in the world and nothing else matters.

except, of course, for why they're here. his sister's name presses on the tip of his tongue (after all, she may hate him, but she'd take good care of his pokemon), but he remembers his false name and pauses. 

"i...well, fuck." he clasps his hands together and looks at pari and isla, already dozing off. fuck it. 

if he ends up in prison, at least he's not technically involved with his family anymore. "hate to ruin your penmanship there," he says, pointing to the script sam has already put to the page, "but i have to be honest with you." you deserve that much.

he musses his hair (something he does when he's stressed) and looks into sam's eyes as he says, "i feel like this'll get in the way of the legality of things, but knox fletcher's not," he pauses, "my name." 

samuel carter

☉