Sam LaCroix (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
necroslacker) wrote2013-10-14 12:22 pm
necroslacker) wrote2013-10-14 12:22 pm
seattle ; monday ft
The excitement surrounding Taco's appearance had made Sam forget one very, very important thing. He was supposed to pick up Haley today and by the time he realized it, he was already running late.
Sam took off at a run, grabbing one of the cars and heading to the library. When he got there, Haley was seated on a brick half wall, swinging her legs and reading a book. Sam hadn't realized how tense he'd become until he saw her. It was a tremendous relief to see her safe.
She looked a little goth today—dark hair braided on each side of her head, black boots, black and red skirt, skull tank top. Sam used to think it was a phase but then realized it was just Haley being Haley. She wore what she wanted to wear and that was that. Sam's sister was one of those rare high school kids who simply didn’t care. She didn’t need extra definitions to feel whole: cheerleader, jock, punk, whatever. For her, being Haley was enough.
She didn’t look up from her book as she opened the door and climbed in. The bookmark hit the page only when she put her seat belt on. “Nice ride, Latey McLaterson. What happened to your Subaru?”
“I’m a jerk. Jerks are late. And I don’t want to talk about it.” Sam got the car started and got them back on the road.
She stowed her book and turned in her seat to glare at me. “I could have taken a bus there by now.”
Sam nodded because she wasn't wrong. "Yes, you could have. But would a bus pay for the flowers we're going to get after I buy you an apology coffee?"
Haley relaxed further into the seat. "You are forgiven, especially if the apology coffee comes with a groveling pastry."
"of course it does. The two are practically inseparable." Sam knew how to grovel.
Haley picked out an arrangement that she deemed suitable, and we drove to the cemetery. Sam always felt oddly at ease in cemeteries but over the last few months, that feeling of comfort had deepend. Now it's more like a sensation of homecoming. Nothing quite like the knowledge that death welcomes you with open arms and warm fuzzies.
Haley put the flowers next to our father, Haden's grave and we sat down on the grass and stretched out a bit in the sun. We didn’t always talk. Sometimes we were silent, sometimes we chatted to him, sometimes we just said “hey, Dad,” and then chatted amongst ourselves. We felt he didn’t care. He was just glad for the company.
Sam and Haley were silent for awhile. It was nice to sit out in the sun and listen to the birds and the bugs and the muffled sounds of the city. It was the best Sam had felt all day.
Haley flopped onto her side. “Have you ever wanted to, you know.” She wiggled her fingers at the grave.
Sam plucked a piece of grass and shook his head. It sucked to have to lie but he didn't want Haley knowing he'd spoken to Haden even if it was by accident. He didn't think he could do it again. Too painful. Haley nodded her quiet acceptance of that.
Sam pulled his t-shirt up to catch a bit of a breeze. It was hot today. “I miss him. I know that’s a stupid thing to say—I mean, of course I miss him—but I wonder if things would be, you know, easier if he was here right now.”
Haley nodded. “Do you ever wish he was your actual dad?” She winced. “Wow, that sounded cruel. I meant in the biological sense.”
Sam nodded. "Yeah." He didn't add that it would have been nice to feel like he fully belonged somewhere. Or that he would have liked to have Haden in his life a lot longer than he had. It seemed selfish and he knew should feel grateful to have had Haden as long as he had.
Haley put her hand into the grass and let a ladybug crawl up onto her index finger. Sam sat there quietly, just content to be close to her.
“I’m glad he wasn’t. I know that sounds selfish and makes me kind of an ass, but if things hadn’t happened how they had, you wouldn’t be you. You wouldn’t be Sam. Sure, you might have looked more like me, and you might have been nice enough, but I like who you are now. I like my weirdo brother who talks to ghosts.”
Sam smiled slightly. "Not sure if I should thank you for punch you in the face."
Haley blew on the ladybug and it took flight. Sam watched it fly lazily up until he lost it in the glare of the sun.
"Thanking me would be better," Haley finally said. “And then you should buy me my apology coffee. I’d like my apology iced and my groveling to have cherry filling.”
“As soon as you describe the knife found in your door.” Sam smacked his hand against the ground. "Dammit Haley, your door! You deliberately let me think it wasn't as serious as it was!"
Haley cursed. "Mrs. W ratted me out."
"Yeah, she did," Sam said. "But that's not the point. I thought we all agreed. No more secrets, wasn't that what we said?"
Haley fixed me with a stare. "I think that’s what you said.” She heaved a sigh. “I get why you’re pissy, but honestly, it’s no big deal. It was probably just my friends pulling a prank. Didn’t seem to make sense getting you all worked up over it.”
Now, it was Sam's turn to give her a look. "You don't really think it was your friends, do you?"
Haley deflated. “No, not really. But we can handle it, Sam. There was nothing special about the knife. Just a basic, cheap, plain athame. No scrollwork, nothing. It’s not a big deal, and it seemed silly getting you involved in it.”
Sam scowled at her. ""And how do you know it's not directed at me?"
“My door, big brother. My name written in blood, not yours.” She tossed a clump of grass at me.
“My baby sis, baby sis.” Sam threw the grass back at her. “Fine, what’s done is done, but at least let me send James over to check your security or something.”
Haley gave in with a shrug. She seemed a lot less worried than I was about the whole thing, but then again, it was Haley. Even if she was as freaked out as he was, she’d never show it.
[NFB, NFI. Lifted and cut from Necromancing the Stone. Nothing objectionable here. This chapter is super long, geesh.]
Sam took off at a run, grabbing one of the cars and heading to the library. When he got there, Haley was seated on a brick half wall, swinging her legs and reading a book. Sam hadn't realized how tense he'd become until he saw her. It was a tremendous relief to see her safe.
She looked a little goth today—dark hair braided on each side of her head, black boots, black and red skirt, skull tank top. Sam used to think it was a phase but then realized it was just Haley being Haley. She wore what she wanted to wear and that was that. Sam's sister was one of those rare high school kids who simply didn’t care. She didn’t need extra definitions to feel whole: cheerleader, jock, punk, whatever. For her, being Haley was enough.
She didn’t look up from her book as she opened the door and climbed in. The bookmark hit the page only when she put her seat belt on. “Nice ride, Latey McLaterson. What happened to your Subaru?”
“I’m a jerk. Jerks are late. And I don’t want to talk about it.” Sam got the car started and got them back on the road.
She stowed her book and turned in her seat to glare at me. “I could have taken a bus there by now.”
Sam nodded because she wasn't wrong. "Yes, you could have. But would a bus pay for the flowers we're going to get after I buy you an apology coffee?"
Haley relaxed further into the seat. "You are forgiven, especially if the apology coffee comes with a groveling pastry."
"of course it does. The two are practically inseparable." Sam knew how to grovel.
Haley picked out an arrangement that she deemed suitable, and we drove to the cemetery. Sam always felt oddly at ease in cemeteries but over the last few months, that feeling of comfort had deepend. Now it's more like a sensation of homecoming. Nothing quite like the knowledge that death welcomes you with open arms and warm fuzzies.
Haley put the flowers next to our father, Haden's grave and we sat down on the grass and stretched out a bit in the sun. We didn’t always talk. Sometimes we were silent, sometimes we chatted to him, sometimes we just said “hey, Dad,” and then chatted amongst ourselves. We felt he didn’t care. He was just glad for the company.
Sam and Haley were silent for awhile. It was nice to sit out in the sun and listen to the birds and the bugs and the muffled sounds of the city. It was the best Sam had felt all day.
Haley flopped onto her side. “Have you ever wanted to, you know.” She wiggled her fingers at the grave.
Sam plucked a piece of grass and shook his head. It sucked to have to lie but he didn't want Haley knowing he'd spoken to Haden even if it was by accident. He didn't think he could do it again. Too painful. Haley nodded her quiet acceptance of that.
Sam pulled his t-shirt up to catch a bit of a breeze. It was hot today. “I miss him. I know that’s a stupid thing to say—I mean, of course I miss him—but I wonder if things would be, you know, easier if he was here right now.”
Haley nodded. “Do you ever wish he was your actual dad?” She winced. “Wow, that sounded cruel. I meant in the biological sense.”
Sam nodded. "Yeah." He didn't add that it would have been nice to feel like he fully belonged somewhere. Or that he would have liked to have Haden in his life a lot longer than he had. It seemed selfish and he knew should feel grateful to have had Haden as long as he had.
Haley put her hand into the grass and let a ladybug crawl up onto her index finger. Sam sat there quietly, just content to be close to her.
“I’m glad he wasn’t. I know that sounds selfish and makes me kind of an ass, but if things hadn’t happened how they had, you wouldn’t be you. You wouldn’t be Sam. Sure, you might have looked more like me, and you might have been nice enough, but I like who you are now. I like my weirdo brother who talks to ghosts.”
Sam smiled slightly. "Not sure if I should thank you for punch you in the face."
Haley blew on the ladybug and it took flight. Sam watched it fly lazily up until he lost it in the glare of the sun.
"Thanking me would be better," Haley finally said. “And then you should buy me my apology coffee. I’d like my apology iced and my groveling to have cherry filling.”
“As soon as you describe the knife found in your door.” Sam smacked his hand against the ground. "Dammit Haley, your door! You deliberately let me think it wasn't as serious as it was!"
Haley cursed. "Mrs. W ratted me out."
"Yeah, she did," Sam said. "But that's not the point. I thought we all agreed. No more secrets, wasn't that what we said?"
Haley fixed me with a stare. "I think that’s what you said.” She heaved a sigh. “I get why you’re pissy, but honestly, it’s no big deal. It was probably just my friends pulling a prank. Didn’t seem to make sense getting you all worked up over it.”
Now, it was Sam's turn to give her a look. "You don't really think it was your friends, do you?"
Haley deflated. “No, not really. But we can handle it, Sam. There was nothing special about the knife. Just a basic, cheap, plain athame. No scrollwork, nothing. It’s not a big deal, and it seemed silly getting you involved in it.”
Sam scowled at her. ""And how do you know it's not directed at me?"
“My door, big brother. My name written in blood, not yours.” She tossed a clump of grass at me.
“My baby sis, baby sis.” Sam threw the grass back at her. “Fine, what’s done is done, but at least let me send James over to check your security or something.”
Haley gave in with a shrug. She seemed a lot less worried than I was about the whole thing, but then again, it was Haley. Even if she was as freaked out as he was, she’d never show it.
[NFB, NFI. Lifted and cut from Necromancing the Stone. Nothing objectionable here. This chapter is super long, geesh.]