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[runsaway]

❝ It's Sam. Leave me a message. ❞

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[runsaway]

[ It's not as good as being inside of her, but it's a lot more enjoyable than his own hand, that's for sure. Sam takes a moment to even out his breathing as he simply nods, hopefully abating her fears with that single motion. He takes a moment to readjust and tuck himself back into his pants, placing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. ]

Thank you.

[dust_of_life]

[She smiles slightly, half embarrassed, half proud.]

Not a bad way to say, "Glad you're still here."

[Or "Glad you're not dead."]

I...

[A pause.]

Don't laugh. But, I mean...I miss you. When you're not around.

[runsaway]

[ He doesn't laugh, but she does get an amused huff as the corners of his mouth quirk upwards. Gingerly, Sam runs his fingers through her hair. ]

I miss you too.

[dust_of_life]

Huh.

[She closes her eyes, head on his shoulder.]

Better than I was expecting.

I would have laughed.

[She could get very, very sentimental right now. But that phantom pang in her side reminds her that she can't. That having Sam means...not having Sam.

So there are no remarks to the tune of "I wish we could spend more time together" or "I hate this sneaking around." Only an absent smile and a teasing:]

I think I got a little carried away on your neck.

[runsaway]

It's not quite Nick Cassavetes, but that's probably for the best.

[ He, apparently, is okay with some Soap Operas, but Sam has his limits.

At the mention, he reaches up and absently rubs the area in question before leaning to the side to admire it in the mirror. ]

Holy crap.

[ That's not going to be easy to hide. When he looks back down at her, he's a mix of surprise and impressed. ]

You work fast.

[dust_of_life]

[She offers him a sheepish shrug.]

We agreed I was calmer than last time. That didn't mean I was...you know...calm.

[Fatima sinks down to the ground, leaning her shoulder and side against the wall.]

At the risk of setting what is, no doubt, a very unhealthy precedent...I feel better now.

[runsaway]

[ He can't argue with that. He makes a mental note to wear his hoodie for the next few days in case he runs into Dean. But he watches her move to the ground with some concern, tilting his head to the side. ]

Isn't that what's important?

[ He crouches down in front of her, resting his wrists on his knees. ]

We all find our own ways to cope.

[dust_of_life]

It feels like giving up. Admitting that I need to cope.

[Her own stubbornness can work against her sometimes. It twists her brain into knots, where she sees some kind of surrender.]

Admitting that this place might actually be worse than Zelien. And that I'm in over my head.

[A thoughtful pause. She looks up at him, lizard-like and unblinking for a moment or two.]

Is it? Worse than Zelien? You still haven't told me about what happened there, after I blacked out.

[runsaway]

[ He shakes his head, frowning a bit. Maybe because sometimes that feels like it's all he does; cope. Make it through the day and say that's the best he can do. He knows it shouldn't be. ]

We all have to cope. No one wants this.

[ No one in their right mind, at least.

But her question makes him pause. He doesn't have a direct answer, unable to fully weigh one against the other. Sometimes it feels just like one big nightmare--is there really a beginning and end from one to the other? ]

I don't know. There are a lot of similarities...they're both nothing anyone should have to go through.

[ And deftly doesn't offer any further explanations. ]

[dust_of_life]

Uh huh.

[She sees what you're doing, Winchester.

It bothers her more than she cares to admit. The nagging feeling that Sam is hiding something from her. Or worse yet, trying to shield her from something. The former, she could deal with, if that's what it was. But the latter hits a nerve. She's a grown-ass woman. And she deserves to be treated as an equal. Not some pathetic...

Well, it doesn't matter.]

We're going through both, regardless of "should."

[runsaway]

[ His motivations are, in part, selfish. He doesn't want her to know things that would scare her, things he's upset and feels guilty about. Things that would make her find more reason not to trust him, but he also knows how stubborn she is. There is a factor of her own safety involved, and something like that, Sam won't back down on. Not when it deals with the devil. Not when it deals with Sam being a monster. ]

I know. [ He wishes he had answers. ] It's not easy.

[dust_of_life]

Yeah. Well...

[Nothing really to say to that. If wishes were horses, and all that.

She lowers her eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a long stretch.]

I should have found you. I'm sorry I didn't.

[runsaway]

[ He shakes his head again. Shoulds and didnts...are something he's familiar with. But there's a huge difference between them; at the time, Sam didn't even care. ]

I can say the same thing.

[dust_of_life]

Please don't.

[She just can't handle his self-effacing drama right now.]

Just say...I don't know. Something classy like, "Oh, baby, don't worry about it."

Only don't cal me "baby" because it's patronizing and you are way too white to pull it off.

[Making jokes? Someone's gone back into defensive shut-down again.]

[runsaway]

[ Reel it in, Sam. It's much too easy to fall into his guilt-fest, he knows, but this isn't about him. It's about her, and her insecurities. ]

We're here now. That's what matters.

[ Is that better? ]

[dust_of_life]

[Fatima nods slightly.]

Acceptable.

[Nodding more to the word choice than the sentiment, apparently.

She closes her eyes, letting her head thunk softly against the wall once.]

You are going to have to tell me someday.

[runsaway]

[ Sam shakes his head, moving to sit down beside her and nudges her shoulder, urging her to open her eyes again. ]

I know.

[dust_of_life]

[She opens those eyes, slightly, peering up at him from beneath her lashes. Normally, she'd be playing that particular look cute and seductive. But not right now. Mostly, it's just tired.]

Why does that scare you?

[runsaway]

[ He shifts his arm to wrap around her shoulder, offering to let her on his lap if she'd like. ]

You don't want to ask that.

[dust_of_life]

[Fatima slides onto his lap readily enough, but she's not especially cuddly.]

Don't tell me what I do or don't want to do.

I asked the questioned because I wanted to ask it and because I want to know. I'm not a child, Sam. I've seen every bit as much horror in life has you have.

[runsaway]

It's not--

[ He just seems to be saying all the wrong things, doesn't he? He sighs, exhaling low through his nose as he rubs the back of his neck. ]

--it's not...about you. Honestly. And you're already sick of hearing me bitch, and I don't wanna sound like a broken record so...it's better to just not ask.

[dust_of_life]

I realize we're both a little wobbly on this whole "boyfriend/girlfriend" thing, but I'm pretty sure you're supposed to bitch to me.

I want you to bitch to me.

[She slips two fingers under his chin, turning his face up toward hers.]

So when you're being unnecessarily hard on yourself, I can smack you on the side of the head and tell you that you're being ridiculous.

[runsaway]

[ He looks up at her, but he doesn't smile. He's...worried he's already said too much. She doesn't want him to be hard on himself, he doesn't want to burden her with his problems anymore than she already has. His gaze drops despite himself as he wraps his arms around her. ]

Can we...--can I take a raincheck on the head smacking?

[dust_of_life]

{How someone that big succeeds in looking that much like a puppy, she'll never know.

Still, Fatima doesn't want to push. Her fingers graze the side of his head lightly, then fall away.]

Yes.

But only a raincheck.

[runsaway]

[ He nods, leaning in to bump his forehead on the side of hers. She doesn't need this, doesn't need him, really, not right after everything she's been through. That part is very much about her and it should be. She may be able to handle it all, but it doesn't mean that she has to. ]

Thank you.