stuck_mynock | (no subject)

...

...

"Shit, Atton." Softly, tugging him closer. "I wish you'd come back here for help."

"'S okay. Nothing's happened that can't be reversed." Atton says, giving Sam a reassuring smile.

"'s not the point." Sam's hand plays absently in Atton's hair.

"It shouldn't've happened to you."

Beat.

"We can go kill them lots, right?"

"Nobody more deserving than me." Atton says. "Yeah. But Wulfric's mine, okay?"

Beat.

Sam moves to grab Atton's shoulders and look him in the eyes. "Atton Rand, listen to me. You deserve none of this. And no, I'm not just lying to make you feel better. You're a good person, Atton, and you don't deserve any of the shit that happens to you. And you can stop thinking otherwise when you like."

Pause.

"But yeah, you get to kill Wulfric. S'long as I get to kill everyone else."

"Sam, c'mon. I'm not a good person." Atton shakes his head.

"I'll even let y'kill the guy in charge of my torture." Generously.

"You are." Bluntly. "Whether or not you believe it."

Sam lets go of Atton's shoulders, curling up next to him again.

"Ooooh. Can I do it slowly?"

"Just make sure you share with anybody else I take. This is presuming I take anybody at all, though."

Immediately, "You're taking me."

Beat.

"Possibly not literally. Moving on."

"Gavin'd object." Absently.

Beat.

"And in the non-literal sense: I still haven't decided if I'm taking anybody. It'll be dangerous."

"He could join in?"

Sam eyes him. "Atton, I am not kidding when I say that I'm never going to forgive you if you don't take me along."

"What's the big deal? If I don't take you, you miss out on one chance t'be violent, that's all."

"...Do you have any idea what it felt like, thinking we'd lost you?"

Atton is silent for a very long time.

"'S can't have been that bad, right?" Hopefully. "'S not as if any of you needed me. 'S not as if you relied on me. I never gave you anything. At best, I might've been entertaining."

Sam looks, suddenly, as if he's been slapped.

And then he hits him. Hard.

Atton's face snaps around at the hit. After a moment, he lifts part of the blanket to wipe away at a trickle of blood coming from his mouth.
"Sorry." Quietly. "'S just ... I don't help you in any way. If anything, I just cause more problems."

Sam's fist is still raised, as if he's forgotten what he's supposed to do next. He almost wishes Atton would hit back, do something, instead of just sitting there looking like that.

It's a while before he speaks, and when he does his head is down, hair falling into his eyes, and his voice is quiet, with an odd, bitter-sad-something note in it.

"For an intelligent guy, you're so fucking dense, sometimes, Atton Rand."

Atton lifts a hand to try and tilt Sam's head up, slightly, to look at him.
"Sorry." He repeats. "I know it ... can't've been great for you."

Sam does look at him, this time. Softly, "Thought I'd lost you, you stupid bastard."

"I know, I know." Atton says, gently.

"Infuriating git," Sam tells him, with a crooked half-smile. The hand that punched him is still outstretched, but the fist unclenches for Sam to wipe away the little trail of blood at the corner of Atton's mouth with his thumb.

"At least I'm a pretty infuriating git?"

"You're very infuriating," Sam corrects, purposely misunderstanding.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

Blink.

"...Hitting you? Losing my temper."