"what if i just make a bed in the bathroom?"

he doesn't want to be apart from knox. be it sick or otherwise, sam wants to be right there with him. close-by.

"oh, unless this is your way of asking for some space. i can respect that, if you need space."

because that's what he'd blown the last three days into. the category in his head of,

' we're fine, he just needs ✨ space ✨ '

knox prescott

clingy, cute, mortifying, or otherwise, knox doesn't really know what to say. because sam's made it quite clear that the past few days have been so fucking rough on him and the last thing he wants to do is deprive sam of more of his wonderful existence. 

but he's shameless to a fault. hunched over a toilet and puking his guts out is one of those rare instances where knox would love to be left alone. especially by people he cares about. 

"i - if you think you won't sleep otherwise...then i'm okay with it. i guess." he says it slowly, still a bit unsure.

samuel carter

☉

"if you have to guess whether you're okay with it or not, then you're not okay with it."

the fact is said like he's telling the clerk back at the naughty store what the change is. blerts it out, not thinking much about it. he's not being malicious or vile, just says what he's thinking like normal.

"i understand it's something you don't want me to be apart of." the puking, and stuff. "i'll respect the boundary."

he says this while paying, giving polite smiles, and thanking the store clerk, before heading toward the doors and outside. he doesn't like to call his gardevoir in buildings unless it's an emergency. why? he's not sure, just an oddity about him.

knox prescott

"and you want to?" he shoots back, genuinely curious. because if it were the other way around, knox probably wouldn't go near sam with a ten foot pole. no, that's a lie. he'd want to coddle him and make sure he's okay and he'd be stupidly stubborn and sit right next to him with a glass of water and pat his back until he felt better.

but that's because knox has been there before. he's been around people when they're at their lowest, when they're at their most vulnerable, and he's always laughed it off, thought it nothing, because the entire time he'd been thinking look how out of control you are. i'm not there, see? that's not me. 

he sits up in bed because knox has walked through the doors of the store and he'll be home soon. 

"see you in a sec," knox says and hangs up. he clenches and unclenches his fingers. he eyes keldeo. and he really wishes he hadn't done the impulsive, romantic thing and flushed his godsdamn pills down the toilet.

samuel carter

☉

"ye--" but knox cuts him off, and he growls at the phone. straight. just. fucking growls. his teeth are gritted together and that bubbling anger is there. he takes gardevoir's capsule out and releases her, take her hand. they're teleported and he's in the kitchen.

"yes, i do want to." sam huffs, and for whatever reason, that's somehow the last straw. the hanging up, the see you in a sec-- but then he reels it in and begins to make the broth, taking the bag of drinks over to knox for him to root through.

then he's back in the kitchen, and he pauses, and then he walks over and gives knox a gentle hello kiss, and then finally he's actually in the kitchen to begin heating the broth in the microwave.

"do you prefer it microwaved or heated on the stove top?"

knox prescott

but he doesn't really see him 'in a sec.' because although sam blips in front of him, it's not really sam. sam's somewhere floating above him. or maybe inside him, tucked in a neat little ball while his body goes on autopilot. what could have happened in the short timespan between hanging up and teleporting back is completely beyond him. 

but his confusion and his dismay are clear on his face when knox unceremoniously drops the drinks in front of him and then walks around to the kitchen. tension snaps back into the air. 

why, why, why? 

he runs his hands through his hair. "uh, don't heat it up." because he'd rather it not burn when it inevitably comes back up. 

samuel carter

☉

"..."

he can't even guess the broth right.

sam's frozen for a moment, just stares at the bowl and frowns. he feels like he doesn't know anything. like he was called to show up at a christmas party and when he got there somehow it's a birthday part and he's all dressed up in a monsterous outfit for no reason.

walking over to knox, he holds the bowl out to him with the broth in it, staring at the surface of the liquid and pretending he's not internally spiraling into confusion and misery.

"...your favorite color's blue, right?" his voice cracks, he swallows. he will not cry again. knox doesn't need more guilt.

knox prescott

no, he thinks. "yes," he says. it used to be. and he doesn't know when it changed, when the lines blurred and the color that outlined his whole world wasn't blue anymore - it was gold. 

he takes the soup because he feels like sam might forget it's in his hands and drop it. he can't really smell it, not without it being warmed, but gods if his stomach doesn't lurch and growl at the sight of something edible. at sustenance, for the first time in days. 

his mouth waters. he puts the soup on the nightstand and reaches for sam's hands. to brush his knuckles. to do something to bring him back.

"earth to sam. you gonna tell me what's going on?" he tilts his head. "is it about what you said before you left?" and then, because he feels the need to point out the obvious, "'cause i'm still here, aren't i?"

samuel carter

☉

"there's a phrase that i never really understood. that, 'you never know what you've got until it's gone.' and another, 'i didn't know i was lonely until i saw their face.'" that one's a lyric, yes, leave him alone he's trying to confess.

"i realized it when you didn't text me back right away. it was solidified when you said you were going to be gone for a while. more time passed and i just kept thinking it, over and over again... how much i hate when you're not near me and how lonely i feel when you're not around. how lonely i was before you showed up."

he shifts his hand to take knox' and with his own and then moves to sit on the bed beside knox, slouching, sighing, running his free hand through his hair.

"i...i haven't known you but for a few months, i know that. and i know that technically i'm still in... 'puppy stage,' as they call it. but i also know that i've never had this feeling about anybody else in the entirety of my life. that's what makes it real to me. more than puppy stage, and more than anything else..."

finally, he sighs, and brings knox' hand to his lips.

"i just missed you so much."

knox prescott

and where was knox before he stumbled his way up that mountainside? he was searching for answers, looking for the next thing, making himself a whirlwind and letting go. there'd been no rhyme or reason. life was rinse and repeat - something new, but the same cycle, the same ups and downs. he'd had no expectations. not for himself or anyone else.

and then comes sam, ruining the party and giving him everything he thought he'd never have. because who could ever have him? this meteor of a boy leaving nothing but destruction in his wake. 

"i've only ever dated - like, actually dated, one other person. it was awful. we were awful. i was awful. so when it ended, i was okay. relieved. because all the things i'd done before that were so hurtful were just things. i could do what i wanted. no expectation. no consequence."

he looks at his hands, at the ones holding him, and says, "i don't want to hurt you, sam, and my brain keeps telling me that if that's the case, then i need to end it. that's why i kept running."

he laces their fingers together and gives sam's hand a squeeze. "but like i said, i'm not running anymore. i'm sorry for the hurt i've caused and the hurt i probably will cause, but i want to try to be better for you, okay?"

his breath is a bit more shallow than normal, and he's a bit panicky, but he's going through withdrawals. that's what he admits to himself. not that his heart's on his fucking sleeve and sam has the power to make or break him. 

samuel carter

☉

sam's learning. learning that knox only had one other serious 'dating' relationship and that knox had ended it on purpose and felt relief. which makes him wonder... do relationships really make you so unhappy?

but the thought is dashed away by knox admitting he has thought about ending it at least once-- no, multiple times, 'my brain keeps telling me,' he had said.

but sam doesn't speak, he listens and waits. waits for the conclusion. the conclusion that is knox ... apologizing, for the times he hurt sam and the times he will hurt him.

"and i'm sorry for doubting us." they're being honest, aren't they? "i'm just... i'm so fucked up inside, and i know that. and i see it when i close my eyes and you're terrified of me. and i see it when i close my eyes and feel enraged at the hold your father has on you and summer and i just...

"i feel like i'm not going to be enough for you. that you'll have to take pills forever just to feel happy with me. to forget all he did. like you can't move on with me without the pills as well. and that, i don't mind. what i mind... is this. is you coming back half dead."

i don't want to lose you.

knox prescott

well, there's a lot to unpack there. several suitcases worth, in fact, and he doesn't know how to parse through one without the others blasting open. it'd be easier to ignore them. but then sam strikes the wrong nerve and knox tilts his head. 

"i dunno, sam. sounds like you mind it," he bites out before he can hold his tongue. before he can pull himself back and think about why he stood over the godsdamn toilet and threw everything away. because he was choosing sam. because despite his denial, of course he knows he has a fucking problem. 

he takes a breath. "ignore that. didn't mean it." he blinks. "that night, when i was putting the lotion on your burns. do you remember what you said? how you felt around me? about me? you called me an addiction. and that scared the shit out of me.

"because i know how fucking hard it is to shake, even when you want to." he shivers. "but i just, ya gotta understand, it's not because i use that i'm happy with you. you're...it's not...you just make me happy. and it's easier to think of that and focus on that when i'm more...myself. that version of myself." because there is where the monster can't touch me. there is where everything makes sense.

samuel carter

☉

but he did mean it, or he wouldn't have said it, right?

maybe sam does mind. he's not entirely sure he's ever been so influenced by a person in his life. he wonders, just for a moment, if this is what is meant when they say, 'love is blind.'

"i've never seen the other version of yourself to know if i do or don't like it." sam shrugged his shoulders. "unless you are referring to how you were the other night, which i didn't mind. i just felt like i couldn't breathe with all the steam."

what sam didn't understand, was somebody not liking a part of themselves. sam accepted that he was a monster, and it's only then, with wide eyes, that sam realizes...

"...oh, you don't like that part of yourself....i, oh."

knox prescott