the moment they are in front of the hospital, eos is touching sam’s mind with concern. but he is sure to reflect within his own that he knows knox isn’t okay.

”i want to help him, but i don’t know how.” so he’s doing his best. he’s doing as knox asks of him because obedience is the only option he’s given to show his affections. because it seems as though his actions and his words mean nothing.

it’s raw and it is fresh. there is so much that has happened and sam worries that maybe it’s too much. maybe knox can’t handle that sort of life. sometimes, people are born to lives they cannot handle. it’s why there are so many tragic and unexplained deaths.

and what if sam’s love, what if it’s not enough? what if he can’t hold knox close to his soul even when it leaves this plane of existence?

sam’s mind is going wild as he gets himself patched up and lectured about needing better security on the mountain if this is what some kind of wild ghost can do. the puncture wounds are easily explained away as something that a pangoro could easily accomplish. the lie comes second nature. because the truth of the situation isn’t able to be spoken.

is that the case for knox, he wonders? can he not speak the truth of his own mind?

he’s been patched up for about half an hour. he’s been patched up and waiting on the painkillers. the painkillers he’s not sure if he should even take back to the mountain or not. they’re childproof, sure, but they’re not knox proof.

but what a horrible thing to think. that he can’t trust knox. and perhaps that is why knox is so angry with him. because there are times like this, when he remembers the pain of disappointment and the sting of betrayal, and finds it hard to fully trust him.

”no more.”

”i’m sorry, sir?”

sam’s resolve was spoken out loud in an office where the nurse had asked him to leave the bed because he was cleared to leave. so now, he’s mildly flushed, realizing he’d spoken his resolve out loud to a nurse that had asked him to leave.

”nothing, sorry.” quickly, he dismisses himself by calling eos and making a quick stop to the pokémon center. while there, he heals up his gardevoirs, sure to give aether a small special bit of attention and asking for scans to be ran, to make sure she’s not damaged from overuse.

when he is given the clear, he uses eos to take them back home. he stops by the pond to check on keldeo. he had left without really telling much of any of his pokémon, but keldeo was new to him in a lot of ways and because of that, his worry for the new addition to his roster has him going to check.

erebus, his spectier, meets him first. fading into existence at the pond for a drink, slowly looking to sam’s gaze before snorting.

”…huh.”

no signs of struggle, but instead, it seemed as though the pokémon had ventured off. sam encouraged the mythical being to do so many times. he is, in a sense, relieved. this relief shows in a small smile as he makes his way inside to look for knox.

”knox? i’m all patched up. i had them do a few scans of aether to make sure she’s…”

but his words fall on what feels like an empty house. knox doesn’t respond and he furrows his brows. when he finally finds him, he huffs and places a hand on his elbow, fingers gently grazing the skin or clothing there.

”knox?”

knox prescott

one sponge isn't enough. after a few minutes of toiling away, he strips the clothes back off. goes back to his boxers. clambers onto his hands and knees with the brownish sponge in his clutches, three extra ones at his side. he turns the tub faucet on and rinses the suds from his arms, splashes it on the spot where the clothes had been.

turns the water off, sprays the grout down, and then gets back to work. soap works its way up to his elbows, on his knees, his shins. he scrapes in between the tiles on the wall. every speck, every spot, he sanitizes. rinses and repeats. 

he doesn't notice the way he's itching at himself, the chemicals from the soap stinging his skin. 

bang bang. bubbles bursting on his skin, rainbow in color. gods, how he misses all the rainbows he used to see. all the colors he could feel. he laments his loss with another hum and then that swirls down the drain too with the rest of the suds. 

he wrings out his sponges. they're all torn up and gross now. but still he rinses them, rubs at a spot on his elbow where some extra soap must have fallen. turns the faucet back on and rinses quickly. it's when he turns that he startles into sam. 

"shitfuckshitmygodsam." he catches his breath and laughs. "all patched up, love?" he gestures to the shower. but that's not the only thing he's cleaned. the counters are wiped down, supplies put neatly away, floor scrubbed, mirrors washed.

samuel carter

☉

when knox startles into him sam’s eyes are wide with panic as he attempts to catch him, steady him, and then there’s laughter.

something like an awkward chuckle comes out of sam as he looks around at the area that knox has waved at.

”it’s… so clean.” it’s like, sam standard clean™️. knox is always so messy, so it shocks him.

but he reels his thoughts back, remembering that knox asked about how he was feeling. ”um, yeah, i’m good.”

knox is in his boxers, which has sam giving him a pitiful look—because let’s pretend that wizz remembered to have sam put clothes on before he went to the hospital, yeah?

”you work up an appetite?”

knox prescott

he looks around, almost like he's seeing it for the first time. the smell of all the cleaners is giving him a headache, he realizes. his nose scrunches and he puts all the cleaning stuff on the counter, bends down to scoop up sam's work clothes that he'd discarded. he shrugs them back on and shakes out his hair. 

"eh, guess i could eat," he says. "might nibble on your oatmeal." 

he heads out of the bathroom and flops back onto sam's bed, grabs his phone from the charger. it takes a second to boot up so while he waits, he tosses it beside him and reaches out his hands for sam. 

"what'd the doctors say?"

samuel carter

☉

”that i should look into getting more league badges so that my pokémon will be more effective in fighting off the local wildlife on the mountain.”

the tone in which sam uses shows his lack of amusement with being treated like a child because of what he had to tell the doctors. to keep them safe, them and Summer Atreides. again, it’s an easy lie. to sam, it’s not so much a lie as a twisting of the truth.

”i told them i was attacked by a pokémon while working, let them fill in the blanks.”

the hand that was extended had immediately been taken, moving onto the bed with him, however knox wants him. to hover, to lay beside. he’s comfortable either way. after all, those pain meds kicked in and he can’t feel a single ounce of pain.

knox prescott

he snorts, but it makes sense. no better cover than letting others underestimate you. in the end, that was really merrick's downfall. the way fear had grown in the back of his eyes when he saw sam for who, what, he was. knox almost has a twisted sense of pride for it, thinking maybe, in his last moments, he respected me.

knox flips onto his back and shimmies up to sam, resting his head on his lap so he can look up at him. he holds his hand up and touches the pads of their fingers together, explores it idly as a quiet blankets them. 

"everything's changed," he says. 

samuel carter

☉

”i think perhaps everything has grown, more than changed.”

to sam, everything has grown. matured, in a sense. because ‘changing’ was always seen as negative, while ‘growth’ produced a ‘positive’ change.

”but…what specifically do you mean?” he determines to trust knox, that it isn’t them, that it’s just knox referring to being free.

but there is doubt. doubt because he is human; but a doubt that he snuffs out before it can reach his eyes.

knox prescott

he's not so sure about that. his instinct is to lean on the negative - on the body that's in the ground so he could earn his freedom. freedom. he doesn't know what to do with it. because even back when he was under his father's thumb, even when he was kicked out of the house and left to his own devices, he was never really free. 

he wasn't chasing highs; he was running from everything else. 

and for someone who's spent their entire life on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop, the concept of being okay is nearly inconceivable. 

but with sam, maybe he can learn. he drops his gaze to the boy's hand, watching himself trace patterns into his palm. 

"i don't want to lose you." he swallows. 

samuel carter

☉

sam looks to knox curiously at his words. he shifts his weight, moving his newly freed hand up to lay it against knox’ jaw. to pull in his boyfriend’s focus to his eyes.

”…impossible. the stars don’t lose the sun, do they?”

he hopes that is a comfort. a testament to how he doesn’t want to leave. he wants to remain by knox’ side until he dies. it’s dramatic but it’s the truth. it’s the other shoe that’s been waiting to drop. if only knox would just let it.

”why would you lose me?”

knox prescott

well, when a sun collapses, they do, he thinks but he doesn't dare say aloud. because behind the words, sam is saying forever. he's saying he won't leave. and that's all he needs to hear. that's all he'll ever need. 

and he holds on to that sentiment as he looks up and meets sam's gaze. 

"because you're all the good i have left," he says with a sigh. and then quickly, urgently, he says, "you have my whole heart, sam. you know that, right? heart and soul and everything else that comes with it."

samuel carter

☉

whole heart.

heart and soul and everything else that went with it.

his good.

”i’d like to think i share it with you, as you share mine.” sam tries with a fond smile, brushing his fingers along the pale features before him, into that blonde hair that’s still got lingering hints of previous colors tickling the ends.

”of course, it’s not just the ‘good’ i want. it’s the bad and the ugly too… even if it’s not something i’ll be comfortable with. and while i don’t think,” he shouldn’t have smiled slightly as he thought back to knox snapping at him about cocaine. ”snorting anything until your head explodes is a good idea, i also understand that drinking, partying, and indulging in those activities in moderation can be fun.”

and so he braves something that has him looking to knox in all seriousness.

”so… take me next time you go to a club, and i’ll indulge with you, help to be the moderation. not to control, but to help you refrain from blowing your brains out, hm?”

knox prescott

he deflates. just a little bit. just enough to be noticed, but not nearly enough to know why. because sam's been home just a few short hours and already he's parsed the knowledge that he has some sort of painkiller on him. he's seen himself rummaging around in his bag a hundred different ways, taking what he can before he can be found out. 

but he hasn't. he's been good. he's been wholly focused on sam. on bringing him to bed, their safe haven, and keeping himself right. 

working on this for them. but now that everything's back to normal, now that knox is free, sam knows it's only a matter of time. and it hurts. it really, really hurts. but he matches sam's smile and accepts it quietly. that he really is broken. that he'll always be broken. even sam can't fix that.

"okay," he says. "okay, my heart."

samuel carter

☉