and somehow, knox's anger makes sam...laugh? the flush deepens and he grips the bar of soap so hard, it flies out of his hand, slapping against the wall and spinning between them. and there is sam, trying to hide a smile. because this is funny. everything that's happened is funny. 

knox leaving is funny. because he's a joke. a dramatic. fucking. joke. 

'it hurts me when you do that.'
'ha, yeah? you don't like it, you can leave, knox.' hands resting on his sides, smirk against his cheek, eyes dancing because they both know he won't walk away. 

for a heart-wrenching moment, he has not buried ollie. his visage shimmers over sam. and then it's gone.

a calm settles over him. gingerly, he washes off the soap from his hands and steps out of the shower, stands on sam's bath mat with socks and pants dripping. shucks those off and grabs a towel. the water he leaves behind is still tinged pink.

samuel carter

☉

as knox drops the bar of soap, sam looks at it. before it can stop spinning he looks up at knox.

then, he’s leaving. he’s leaving the bathroom and he’s leaving sam to clean up his the mess. the mess of them. the mess of their lives… but sam accepts that and sighs.

”guess not.” guess that knox can not, in fact, wash his shoulder. so, he strips the rest of the way with hisses and grunts, pulling the curtain away and putting the clothes on the already ruined mat so he can have the whole tub to work with. he gets out only long enough to squat down and grab a few of the first aid supplies. he’s shutting the cabinet and standing up.

but he’s done so as quickly as normal. he does so recklessly and without realizing he’s lost a lot of blood. for a moment, the room spins around him. his hands clatter along the sink and things scatter across the floor that sam hadn’t already packed for their trip to kanto they’ll likely never take.

he barely managed to hold himself up, but he did. he stands, gripping the sink and half sitting on the toilet, uncomfortably naked and exposed, as the room rights itself. he didn’t even realize he’d blacked out for a moment, grunted even. but he is slow standing the second time, sitting in the tub and stretching to reach the first aid supplies he had dropped.

knox prescott

knox steps outside the bathroom, but he does not shut the door. he won't make that mistake again. but he does look down at the handle, at his fingertips rested against it, looks at the wood that separates them. steam wafts out from the side. 

he is free. 

no more merrick. no more threat. he can go home. he can have his life back. he can go one fucking town over with sam and hold hands with him in broad daylight. so why isn't there any relief? why isn't there any happiness? because surely all of this shit, everything they've gone through, must be worth it. surely there's something at the end of the tunnel.

or maybe it's just sam's cruel smirk and an ocean's worth of heartache between them. 

clatter. 

he startles out of his reverie and slips back inside. sam half-crouching, eyes half-lidded. if knox didn't know any better, he'd think he fucking overdosed. but blood still drips from the wound and more guilt rests on his back. 

he snatches sam's first aid box and goes to his side. sits down beside him and wordlessly opens the box. he takes out alcoholic wipes and tears the packets open with his teeth, only flickers his gaze up briefly to warn sam before he's pressing. 

gently, still, even though it's hard to do so.

samuel carter

☉

when the door opens it is sam that startles. startles and slips. not dangerously, just into the tub more. the water’s spraying down on his body and rinsing the wounds on his legs for him.

without a word knox is sitting down and tearing open the packaging of the wipes. he goes to open his mouth in protest,”kn—“ but he’s interrupted by the pain of the wipe and he hisses, teeth clenched, hands balling into fists as he grunts.

”ow.”

it’s… a whine. a whine as in a vulnerability. usually he just internalizes but this time, he’s letting knox see. that he’s human, that he can feel too. both physically and mentally.

”i’m sorry about ollie.” he finally voices, brows furrowing as he works how the way he feels. ”he’s the one that was there for you when you were in the hospital. told you about seven years, wasn’t he?”

perhaps asking would only get him more pain, but he needed the distraction or else he was going to start tuning back out again.

knox prescott

knox focuses on wiping him down, even though sam is wincing in pain. he gets distracted by the noise, by the way sam is twinging under his touch. it's unlike him. but he doesn't comment on it; just keeps working, mouth a thin line. it's a methodical practice and doing it helps distract him from the rest of the gnats that are flying around his head. 

when sam apologizes, knox stays his hand. looks up wordlessly. still a little perplexed. 

does it count that he was there for all of five minutes when i woke up and then i never saw him again?

probably not. "yeah." he frowns. "he wanted to make sure i didn't end up in the hospital again." knox slides into the tub, craning his neck to keep it out of the running water, and grabs a washcloth to gently clean around the cuts and punctures on sam's leg. 

samuel carter

☉

as knox gets comfortable within the tub, in his clothes still, sam gives him a soft smile.

it’s a very rare smile and it is one he doesn’t even realize he’s giving. it reflects sam’s heart, how much he cares; shows the bright emotion streaming from his very soul.

”i’m glad you’re here… and if he had a part in that, in any way, i suppose i don’t have a right to be…”

what was he, even? jealous of a dead man? seemed silly.

”jealous, i think.”

honestly it’s a new sensation and he’s not even sure he’s labeled it right.

knox prescott

his movements slow. he has to strain to hear sam over the water right beside him. one thing knox most certainly isn't ready for is talking about ollie. not like this. not thanking him for where he is now. who he is. but sam doesn't know that. sam will never know that. 

one brow raises. he lifts a tired gaze, rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. the washcloth drips more pink onto them, but at this point he's not phased by it. at this point, he's accepted it. their blood - ollie's and his father's - will stain them forever. 

he swallows. it's not hard to put the pieces together. 

"summer must have told merrick i was with him. to protect me. to protect you." he bites his lip. "i'm not okay, sam. and i'm not going to be okay for a while. but if you really need to hear it, i'd be less fucking okay if it was you i had to put six feet under."

samuel carter

☉

sam leans forward, pulling with his ankles to make himself closer to knox. slowly, he takes the rag, then he starts to pull at knox’ clothes to remove them as well. because they’re filthy and knox does, in fact, need to wash it all off.

to cleanse.

”you don’t have to be okay.” sam determines, brows furrowing. ”i think… i’ve put too much pressure on you being okay. or you being happy with, or without, something. because that’s how i’m happy. maybe your happy looks different. maybe your okay is different. or maybe you aren’t those at all…”

he looks to knox then, both fully exposed, eyes and tone so soft it’s hardly the same person. but all those times before that his eyes were soft, they were the same. he’s just expressing it with his body now, in every way he can, without holding back.

”i’m allowing myself to feel human again, with you… i haven’t felt human since before i left the war. i boxed up my humanity with the memories. tonight brought a lot of those memories to the surface and… i missed being human. feeling alive. you’ve been slowly breaking away at that cold exterior i built and tonight, you shattered it. by needing me to be me for you. and now, now you’re free too.”

knox prescott

it's a tight squeeze, the two of them in this shower. and knox helps as best he can, wincing when he scoots his butt up and jerks his boxers off. his shoulder twinges in a hey, fuck that, buddy kind of way and he thinks it must have been from when merrick shoved him. 

compared to sam, even summer, knox walked away with nothing. 

knox's brows furrow. he doesn't think sam has talked this much since...well, ever. and he's been earnest before, vulnerable, but not like this. it's almost like this entire time they've been together, knox has only seen glimpses of his sam. 

he doesn't know if it makes him sad, or happy. 

the water is getting colder. they've had it running for a while now. he shivers, but it's from a different kind of chill. "i left you, sam. i did everything you've been begging me not to do - everything i promised not to do to you. and now you're...free? how many people did you kill tonight?" he runs his fingers up through his hair, stressed.

i don't feel free. 

he hangs his head miserably. water sprays at his back, washing the blood from white locks. 

samuel carter

☉

”enough to win my own freedom.” freedom from paranoia and stress, freedom from worry. his eyes watch as knox tries to collect himself.

maybe it would be better not to talk, but sam can’t help but have too many questions. he’s definitely not going to bring up ollie anymore, because that’s not helpful… but he does brave to say,

”but they were my choice. i chose to go. i chose to kill them. i chose to fight. it was my choice, not yours… and you can’t take those choices from me and make them your fault. just like you can’t make ollie’s death your fault, it was your fathers. for forcing his hand against summer to lure you out.”

knox was a victim. a victim who was guilty of a lot of things. nearly everything he didn’t blame himself for.

”at least, that’s my opinion, and you’re free to disagree. i’m… not going to try and persuade you to see it my way, anymore.”

knox prescott

the thing about knox is he doesn't like hearing truths. especially not when they're made to absolve him of the horrific things he's done. the horrific person that he is. he squeezes his eyes shut and the water runs over his ears. sam's words are warbled and distorted and here, in this space, he can tweak them just a little bit. 

because there are a dozen and one things he could have done instead of hiding out on mt. pyre with sam. ollie was very well shot by his own hand. because i'm a coward. 

he takes a page out of summer's book. puts the mask on. slicks back his hair and comes up from the water. he reaches between them and thumbs sam's cheek. sighs. 

"come on." he shuts the water off and stands up, holds out his arms to grab sam. he'll need to put gauze over the puncture wounds on his shoulder, but first he needs to dry him off. 

samuel carter

☉

the moment knox goes under has sam letting out a sigh.

”and i’m off…” turned off, like a radio; or distorted, like there’s no signal. it makes sam frown, showing his disapproval and discomfort.

by the time knox stands and offers his hands, sam stands on his own and kisses the palm of knox’ hand. it’s a light denial, but not an outright rejection of the affection knox is presenting him with.

”why don’t you go get some rest?” he takes a towel, beginning to dry himself off gently, brows furrowing in discomfort. ”i can take care of this.”

his fall in the bathroom earlier? pfft, shh, what fall? he is just going to pretend he is fine.

dry himself off, clean his wounds, take care of their clothes… he wasn’t going to sleep that night, most likely, but he wasn’t about to voice that, either.

knox prescott

his hand is clean now. sam saw to that. he looks down at their clothes, water still dripping from the faucet's pressure. they'll smell by the morning, but knox doesn't care. after a shower, he's exhausted, and he's sure he needs to take advantage of sleep right now. 

because there are going to be some sleepless nights ahead of them. 

so he ignores sam because sam is being stupid. he stares hard at him and tugs the towel away so he can dry him off properly. and then he goes for the neosporin. after dabbing it on as gently as he can, he sets up the gauze and medical tape. 

"i'm putting these on you and then we're going to bed." and because he knows sam's going to argue, he adds, "i can't be alone right now. i need you."

samuel carter

☉