his heart flutters. his stomach drops. he's annoyed and he's guilt-ridden and he's angry and all of this bubbles to his face alongside his exasperation. because how many times does he have to say he'll come back? how many times does he have to show sam he is enough? 

"yes, you are," he says. "sam, i had to leave. but i told you i'd come back and i did." he grimaces, hangs his head, gasps as another dry-heave takes him. not now. not while i'm trying to make a fucking point. 

"partner? boyfriend? what do you want me to say? what do i have to do to prove it?" 

samuel carter

☉

clearly he had 'boyfriend' and 'partner' confused with people who texted more than once every fucking six hours after saying they'd be right back. but it's not the time, it's not the place, and sam doesn't want to have this conversation while knox is in the middle of a withdraw.

"do you want to go inside or remain in--" the idea of knox staying in the pond while sam's not there makes his anxiety flare.

"let's get you inside, i'll get the shower going and get you some soup."

he's spiraling. his brain his crying out. help, help, help me. he doesn't know what to do and he assumes he's gauged the idea of boyfriend, partner, or lover all wrong. maybe it's really just about sex, maybe friends would have been better.

he doesn't know. he's just confused. and he's worried, and he can't do what the drugs do for knox and it infuriates him.

knox prescott

he'd actually love to stay out in the pond. because the idea of standing up in his wet clothes and trudging his way to the house sounds absolutely terrible. but sam cuts himself off and makes the decision for him, and that's that. he'd argue, but he doesn't have the energy to argue. 

he could have come back. he could have checked on summer and sobered her up and come back to sam, picked up where they left off. and then everything would be okay. and instead of shivering and shaking in the pond, they'd be beside it, marveling at it, looking at each other drowsily and thinking, wow, i kind of love you.

is that what he has to say to fix it? the words are pressed against the back of his lips, but it's taking all of his concentration to stand and put one foot in front of the other. 

samuel carter

☉

sam helps knox into the shower and then heads into the room. he strips and pulls on his(knox' old) hoodie, while putting their soaked clothes into the washer. he checks over his phone, then looks out into the pond--only when he looks out into the pond, he sees keldeo standing at the window peering in.

both are startled by the other, they jolt and have a small anxiety attack before sam laughs and keldeo prances in a small circle like a fit of laughter. with that, sam opens the window and helps to pull the horse into the room.

closing the door, he makes his way to the shower. keldeo is right behind him, not paying attention, boops into sam's butt and snorts at it.

"i'm going to head out. i'm leaving keldeo in the room, he doesn't like his capsule and i can't take him with me in public." after spouting off the information, he moves the curtain and gives knox a kiss on his head, wet or not, then leans away to wipe his face. he sniffs, pressing his cold fingers to his swollen under eyes.

he'd cried so much it was a wonder he could see.

"i love you starlight," he's no idea he's said it. "i'll be back."

he prances to the room and takes out gardevoir's capsule. he gives keldeo a small pat on the head and then they're gone, and keldeo moves into the bathroom. there's water in the shower, so the pokémon curiously and anxiously moves to put its nuzzle into the drain, but the water's contaminated and keldeo snorts out a complaint.

knox prescott

and just like that, sam's putting a door between them again. except this time knox is the one in the shower, waiting for a return. he starts to let himself go, is about to sink to the ground and give in to another moment's respite, but sam is back already and knox realizes a moment too late that he'd never left. 

before sam says the thing that traps him and then he leaves again. 

he stares dumbly at the door that's been left ajar. and it's while he's staring that sam's keldeo noses its way through the door. it steps into the shower as if that's the most normal thing in the world and tries to nose at the drain. 

"what, you like me now?" the water has done a decent job of washing away most of his stink, but he lathers up a decent amount of soap to wash the rest of the grime away. "yeah, i guess i wouldn't like me either if i was covered in that." he points down to the brownish suds as they swirl down the drain.

knox turns the water off. keldeo whines. and so knox sits down and turns the shower back on, but this time he cups some of the water in his hands and slowly drizzles it over the horse's snout. it shivers with delight and fans its watery mane. 

knox watches the water slick down its shimmery fur and is content for a bit. then he turns the water off, much to keldeo's dismay, and wraps a towel around his waist. 

after scouring for his pokeballs and withdrawing captain, he's back in the bathroom, bag in hand, knowing full well the shit in his palm will stave off the sickness. will make him whole. so he can fix this and fix them and say all the right things. 

keldeo is watching. and maybe that's why he walks over to the toilet and upends the bag. plink, plink, plink. he mourns the loss with a sigh and then flushes. 

he comes out and he reaches for his clothes, the ones he'd bought on their day out, but then he goes through sam's drawers instead. pulls on sweats. a tee. and crawls into bed.

samuel carter

☉

when he teleports outside the store he goes to let go of gardevoir's hand but she holds it. she is crying, but he looks fine. he appears to the rest of the world and perfectly fine. but she is shaking, she is sobbing, and she reminds him that he was willing to just replace her.

flashes of knox move through his mind. his laugh, his smile. his terrified face, the pain. how he clawed and tried to get away. how he promised he would be right back and then was gone for four days.

and he was angry, and he was sad.

he is now just ... numb. but his gardevoir feels it all. reminds him that deep down there he has a heart and he is choosing not to see it, choosing not to feel it, choosing logic over emotion on purpose.

she is withdrawn to her capsule, he cannot deal with those emotions right now and he strokes her capsule in apology as he walks into the store. as he sorts through soup flavors, he digs out his phone, frowning. he realized upon entering the aisle that he has no idea what kind of soup he likes.

so he moves his fingers across his phone, pulling up knox' name. my starlight.

i love you starlight.

his heart stops beating for at least two seconds and when it starts it pulses anxiety through his whole body. his eyes widen and he swallows thickly. what has he done? will he be there? what have i done?

he decides to facetime knox, because the connection is fine since he got the cable for decent wifi run up the tower, and he learned that facetiming was easier than sending pictures and waiting for a response.

knox prescott

i love you, starlight. of course he does.

i love you, starlight. but should he? can he? 

i love you, starlight. he has to say it back. he has to say it back before sam can take it back. so he finds his phone where sam had left it - charging on the nightstand - and pulls up their text messages. 

i love you, starlight. after that? after all of this? 

he drops his phone on his chest and thinks that texting it wouldn't be the right move anyway. but he's too chickenshit to say it in person. even while knowing sam feels this way. his brain hurts and he wants to sleep for days. so he tries to do the latter except then his phone is buzzing. 

he grabs at it, sees it's sam, and answers immediately. he shifts onto his side and holds the phone so he doesn't look like absolute shit. sam, on the other hand, gives him a beautiful chin angle (of which knox, obviously, takes a screenshot of). 

"broth's probably better, if that's what you're wondering," he says. 

samuel carter

☉

"oh," what knox can see is sam awkwardly furrowing his brow and glancing around. when he finds the broth, he makes his way over, then looks at the flavors. "which... brand and flavor do you prefer?"

then he looks over the options, brows furrowed, and looks at his phone screen. he scans it and then bites the inside of his lip. after a few silent seconds he sighs.

"knox, where is the button that rotates the camera so i can show you the flavors and brands?"

knox prescott

he shifts onto his back and holds the phone up above his head. sam's sheets and sam's shirt and sam's pillows are clearly visible in the shot. he actually had been worried it was a more pressing matter. like maybe sam accidentally locked himself in a supply closet or something. because knox isn't stupid. sam isn't 'totally there' right now. 

because of me. 

yikes. he snorts and the phone slips out of his hands, fumbling to smack him in the face. he curses and rubs his nose while flipping the the screen back around. 

"bottom right of the screen. looks like two arrows. or you can just flip the phone around. but i don't really care as long as it's not fish. maybe, could you also pick up some energy drinks? stuff with salt and electrolytes and shit."

he pauses. "this is why you called, right?"

samuel carter

☉

"anything that's not fish."

he gave up on the button, he doesn't know what looks like two arrows or not. he'd gotten distracted by the fact that knox was in sam's bed covered in everything that belonged to sam. it helped. it helped a lot and it made sam want to be in the bed holding him.

i really am broken.

but broken once, why not break the rest of the way? and why not be broken by a boy he wanted to be with forever, and in different lives? what if that was it? what if love was connecting with a soul in such a way that when you died, you just came back over and over again in an attempt to find that person?

sounded like fate. was he a believer now?

after grabbing a few things, he makes his way to the drink aisle while answer knox' question.

"yes. it's easier than waiting for a text back, or waiting for the images to send." his brows raise, as if mocking himself. "though i am not as savvy with the time face as i'd like to be."

he's too distracted by labels to realize he's said it backwards.

knox prescott

looking at the world spinning and shaking on the screen while sam fumbles with it isn't exactly pleasurable. so he picks at the collar of the shirt and tugs sam's bedsheets up, obscuring half his face but drawing sam's scent into his nose. oh. i see why he likes this. 

it's nice. it's warm. it makes him think of home. and that's what sam had meant in that text. not go home - not go to your house, that place that has and always will haunt you. that empty box with all the trinkets in the world. but here, wrapped in these sheets, with sam's smell around him, his things a comfort, a reminder of him. 

home. 

"did you just say time face?" knox cackles. he snaps another screenshot while sam juggles the soups and reaches for a couple of drinks. 

he doesn't need to be on this call. not anymore. sam's question has been answered and he's starting to juggle quite a few things at once, but knox doesn't say anything. because this distance is sort of nice. he can look at him and think about how much he wants him, and it's easier that way.

when he returns, knox will have to face his reality again. 

samuel carter

☉

"did i?"

he's in the check out line and rights the phone, looking at the screen skeptically and taking it all in. he doesn't need a screenshot, he can recall the memory with ease whenever he likes. which has him doing the same for the 'time face' in question.

then he laughs along with knox, wanting to scratch at his hair to hide his embarrassment, but he can't. too many items in his hold.

"i did...i blame not sleeping but four and a half hours in three days."

knox prescott

okay, maybe sam won't have to come home to make knox face reality. here comes that guilt again, pricking at his heart, reminding him that maybe saying i love you too isn't the right thing for sam. because look at what he's done to him. look at what you've done to him, knox. 

your body is battered and broken and frayed in all the wrong places and he's the one with the sleepless nights, the bruises under his eyes. how can you claim to care when this is what you put him through?

but the voice isn't even a voice. these thoughts aren't even his thoughts. they've been swallowed for years, smothered and forgotten. only the remnants, only the sliver, of their guilt comes clawing to the surface. echoes of pain. 

"come home," he says, "and then we can sleep."

samuel carter

☉