necroslacker | seattle ; wednesday ft

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seattle ; wednesday ft

Sam shuffled aimlessly through the kitchen with Ramon at his back. Ramon headed straight for the fridge to start eating his way through an entire roast chicken. Sam collapsed in the chair across from him.

"You look tired," Ramon said.

"That's because I am tired," Sam replied, rubbing a hand over his face.

"You should take a nap," Ramon said, finishing up one drumstick and reaching for another.

It wasn't as easy as Ramon made it sound. Sam had never been a great sleeper and now, with new things to worry about, he knew it wasn't going to be happening for him unless his mother knocked him out again. If he wasn't worrying about the knife in his sister's door, he was getting nocturnal visits from lonely ghosts who just wanted to talk. Sam didn't tend to have the heart to tell them to beat it.

"Nap time would be awesome but I've gotta figure out what happened to Brannoc, who's threatening my sister and about fifty other things. And I need to burn my sheets.

He sighed wearily.

Ramon wiped his fingers on a napkin. "And if you don’t rest your brain, you won’t be any good at any of it. I know you, Sammy. You’ll keep going until you collapse. An hour either way won’t matter. Haley’s out and about, and your mom is at her shop. They’re safe. Go sleep, and I promise I’ll wake you."

Ramon was an awesome friend and Sam smiled at him. "And if I say no?"

Ramon laughed at him. "If I have to, I will pick you up and put you to bed myself. Before you try and argue, remember that I could juggle you now if I wanted to."

That made Sam laugh again. He'd initially felt really guilty about Ramon's werebear status but Ramon seemed to be taking it in stride. He was happy to have his friend around.

Sam sighed and got up. "You're a bully but fine. An hour. No more."

"An hour and you can sleep in my bed," Ramon agreed. "No one's pissed on my comforter, I'm sure."

Sam moved out of the kitchen and up the stairs to collapse in Ramon's bed. He fell asleep surprisingly quickly. It was good to sleep.

True to word, Ramon woke me up in an hour. He whispered, "Brid's here," before leaving Sam alone again. Sam pushed himself up and realized he felt better. He was still groggy but not as out of it as he'd been before. He crawled out of bed and went to see Brid.

When he walked outside, he spotted Brid sitting in the newly installed porch swing. She looked amused and that was good to see. The reasons, he noticed, where the statue nymphs lounging on the grass, weaving flowers into the Minotaur's hair. The gladiators were playing Frisbee and the gnomes were...not around. Frank was outside, clipboard still in hand, looking satisfied.

As Sam approached, even with the smile on her face, he could see she looked tired and drawn. Sam reached down and took her hand, giving it a squeeze before urging her to get up. He'd take them on a walk near the water, give them some privacy. Brid went willingly.

They found a seat on one of the bigger and less jagged boulders and were quiet for awhile.

"This is nice," she said quietly.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked her. "I mean, besides your dad. I know what's bothering you on that front."

Brid sighed and looked down at her hands. "I'm that transparent, huh?"

"Not usually," Sam said, shrugging, "but sometimes I can figure it out."

Brid looked over at Sam and smiled though it was sad. "You're a good person, Sam. A really good person. There's a lot going on. I'm glad you're my friend."

"So am I," Sam said, wondering what she was leading up to. "You're not about to feed me to a shark or something, right?"

Brid laughed and shook her head. "No. I just -- I wish you could have found my dad. I hate not knowing."

Sam's heart clenched and he bowed his head. "I know. I'm sorry."

Brid nodded. "Things are going to get complex. I'm -- I might not be able to come around as much as usual, Sam. I have to be there for the pack, be the leader that my father was."

Sam took a breath and nodded. "I get it. I mean, you're the taoiseach. You have to be around. But, you can't still be my friend?"

Brid rubbed her eyes. "I can. I mean, I will but it's just going to be hard. Because you're -- you and I'm leading a group of people who don't always take kindly to...your kind."

As soon as she said, Sam knew that Brid regretted the phrasing but he let it go. "Not all necromancers are evil," Sam said weakly.

"I know," Brid replied, nodding. "But they're not as open minded. I just don't want anyone else to get hurt. You or them. I don't want to rock the boat just yet. My father pulled us all together and Bran tried to keep it up but he had to step down because of it."

"What's Bran got to do with it?" Sam asked, not following.

"You've never wondered why I'm the taoiseach and he isn't?"

Sam shrugged. "Wondered sure, but I assume he and your dad had a good reason."

"Bran and I, we’re pretty evenly matched. In fact, he’s got a bit more experience just because he’s older, but, well, he’s never hidden his preferences from the pack," Brid remarked quietly.

"Preferences?" Sam repeated. "Wait, Bran's gay?"

"You really didn't know?" Brid asked, almost surprised.

Sam shook his head. "Is your pack homophobic?"

Brid immediately shook her head. "They would have accepted him as taoiseach, no problem. He’d be a good leader, but he wouldn’t produce any heirs, and that would invite trouble. Bran chose to step down because he cared about the pack. I can't sacrifice any less than he has."

"You're worried that if I kept coming around, it'd cause big problems," Sam guessed, sounding sad.

"You're powerful but I have to start thinking about children, about heirs," Brid said and sounded hollow. He didn't know if it was because the thought scared her or something else.

Sam was quiet for several long moments before reaching over to pull Brid into a hug. "You've got a lot on your shoulders. I love you and I'm here for you, no matter what. I promise."

Brid clung to him and laughed a little. "Thanks, Sam. I'm not giving you up. Just...stepping back."

Sam nodded. "I'll be here when you can step closer again."

[NFB. Cut and hacked from Necromancing the Stone. Warning for: nothing objectionable here. Open, if needed.]

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It had been a couple of days, and Natalie's head was clear of all stupid pollen effects again, even though she was pretty swamped with work now instead.

But it seemed like a good idea to check in, just to ease her mind. So, phone call.

Brid had left awhile ago but Sam was still sitting near the coastline on the boulder. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the caller ID.

"Yeah?" he asked though there was no disdain there. Only exhaustion.

"You're awake." Natalie sounded tired in her own way. Still glad, though. "Good."

Hellos continued to be for other people.

"Yeah." He rubbed his face and stifled a yawn. "Woke up awhile ago. Still feel like I got run over but I'm not puking anymore. Heard you visited while I was out of it."

"Well, I talked to Haley and she said you were in a bad way." Not to mention the knife thing, too. "You were really out of it."

"Yeah. " He was saying that a lot. "Magical hangover is what I'm told. I came in contact with something really magical and my body revolted. I had to sleep it off."

He shrugged slightly. "I feel better."

"Good."

She was saying that a lot.

"How's everyone else? Is Haley still being unrealistically cool about the knife thing?"

"Haven't talked to her since I woke up," he told her quietly. "But no one's told me otherwise. So, I guess she's dealing with. I'll talk to her a little later, I'm sure. I've got about a notebook of things I've gotta do."

"Yeah, I figured," Natalie replied, with a little sigh. "Seemed like you had quite a mess brewing over there."

And her in Haiti feeling vaguely guilty, as if seeing to any of it was her responsibility.

"Uh huh."

There wasn't a lot to say in response to that because she wasn't wrong.

"My whole life is a mess. It's only fitting."

"It'll get better," she told him quietly. "I know it's lame and... everything. But it will."

"No, it won't."

It was easy for him to say that considering what had just happened.

"It really won't."

Natalie's tone got just a little bit more assertive. "Yeah, it will. Won't be easy, but it will."

"Natalie, I appreciate the sentiment but I just had another friend tell me she can't be around me anymore so I really don't need a pep talk," Sam told her numbly. "Please."

"... Who the hell did that now?"

Wasn't that supposed to be her thing?

"Brid." He respected her reasons, he really did but it still hurt. "So, I'd rather not hear about things getting better when one of my friends gets murdered and the other has to leave to make sure her pack doesn't fall apart."

"I'm sorry, I know it hurts." Approximately. "Or maybe I don't. But I know it sucks. I just also know that won't be forever."

"Natalie. Stop," he said sharply. "I don't want to hear about things getting better. I've been hoping that would happen for nearly a year now and it hasn't happened. So, please. I will beg you if I have to but I cannot hear about things getting better when I can still smell the pyre from Brannoc's funeral and I just held Brid while she cried and said goodbye. Please. Stop."

Natalie opened her mouth to argue. Then closed it again. And held back a sigh.

"Okay."

"Thank you."

He closed his eyes and rubbed at them, willing away any stupid tears. He was still a little hungover, apparently, and his emotions weren't entirely controlled.

"Now I don't know what to say."

But her voice was soft and soothing and she wasn't trying to argue again.

"Shows how amazingly intelligent I really am."

"You don't need to say anything," Sam told her, shaking his head. "I'll handle it and you've got your own stuff to take care of. Don't need to worry about me."

"It's not really dependant on need," she said. "I worry. And I saw how you were. And if you ever need any help, I'll do what I can."

"No."

He shook his head.

"You're not getting involved. That's not your concern anymore."

"Is this because you want to protect me, or because you simply don't want me there?"

It was an important distinction.

"When I was sick, you were all I wanted," Sam told her quietly but firmly. "You were all I was wishing for. But I can't have you in that way and I'm not bringing you into this when you've moved on. I want you here but you've got your own life and I'm not gonna be something that blocks you from that."

Natalie wasn't going to snap. She wasn't.

She breathed in.

"And when you were sick, I was there by your bed and guarding your door for most of a day," she told him, even and mild. "'Moved on'. Right."

"Natalie..."

He sighed, sounding tired. Really tired.

"What do you want? The last time we talked, you said you'd been going for closure with me. I'm trying to give it to you. I still can't be your friend because I'm barely anyone's friends at this point. I'm trying to let you move on. You broke up with me because you can't be with me. I'm trying to let you go be with who you want to be with."

"I don't want to be with anyone."

Okay, that was a snap. She regretted it immediately, taking another deep breath.

"Closure on our relationship, Sam. I mean, our romantic relationship. Not closure on everything, and you know that. You know that, Sam. I can't be that tied to you or anyone else, but that doesn't mean I don't want to help or that I don't care."

"You can have your closure," Sam told her, still quiet despite her snapping. "I'm no longer thinking we'll be together, Natalie. After everything, I know it's not gonna happen. So, you've got your closure. We're not gonna be together ever again. I'm fine with that."

He really was not but he was trying to protect people right now. There were knives being stuck in doors of people he loved and he wasn't going to have it happen more than once.

"I'm not kicking you out of my life. I just can't bring you into this. It's too dangerous."

She hoped he knew how much she wished that first part had been true. She kind of doubted it, though. Without saying it.

"I'm flanked by bodyguards all the time now," she pointed out with renewed mildness again. "Only because it'd draw too much attention if I disposed of would-be assassins myself."

Things were dangerous all around. But she was pretty badass too.

"I can't do this with you right now," Sam told her, shaking his head. "I can't. I'm not bringing you into this, Natalie. Go on about your life. I know you can take care of yourself but please just respect my wishes on this one. I'm letting you go."

"Feels a lot like being shut out," Natalie replied quietly, without any particular argumentative tone. "But it's your choice. Not mine."

She guessed.

"Okay Natalie, do you have time to be in Seattle right now?" Sam asked her bluntly. "Because that's what this needs. This isn't a come as you can situation. Is that something you can do?"

"No, and I never offered to, since I told you to tell me if there was any way I could help. But I prefer that as a reason why I can't."

You know, instead of it being too dangerous or something. It was nice and concrete and something that didn't feel weirdly like a slap in the face.

Sam sighed and covered his face with a hand.

"Look, I'm really tired," he told her and it wasn't a lie. "If there's anything you can do, I'll try to tell you but I doubt it's going to happen. I'm gonna go now, though. I don't feel great."

"Sorry if I made it worse."

She honestly was. She just had a way of getting tangled in her own issues.

"I hope you'll feel better."

"You didn't. Thanks for visiting me though even if I don't remember," he told her. "I appreciate it."

"It was nothing. Just sitting and some soothing."

Singing.

"You're welcome."

"Yeah."

He was quiet for a few seconds.

"Talk to you later, Natalie."

And then he hung up.

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