sizeofyourbaggage | mental link

[ It's fine, it is, and Sam hums quietly as he presses in closer, the phantom sensation of his shoulder against Shiro's. ]

( Your best is more than enough, Shiro. ) [ He doesn't just mean the coping skills and the training, but now's not the time for that.

Instead he closes his eyes, letting the little snippets of memory that Shiro shows him wash over him. It's a glimpse, enough to give Sam a pretty good idea of what'd happened - but that's not the point of this. What Sam already knew would've been enough for him; he never felt the need to know the details, not if Shiro didn't want to talk about them. For what they're doing here - he can't just have a good idea of it; he's gotta get Shiro to talk about it. ]

( You're holding back. ) [ It's gentle, still without recrimination, but Sam doesn't hesitate to point it out. He reaches back out again, puts a little bit more of himself over their connection, curling around Shiro's mind. Supporting him, trying to give him someone to fall back on. ] ( You don't gotta remember it clear enough to show me, you can talk through it. But you can't hold back, not if it's gonna help. )

[He wants to argue, but he can't. He wants to say that it hasn't ever been enough. That if it was enough, then his first team, first mission, would have made it through. There wouldn't have been a need to save Allura, he wouldn't second-guess everything so often.]

[But Sam is going to maintain otherwise. He knows that much by now. So he says nothing, on that point.]

(Didn't want to drag you in again.) [And, to be honest, he didn't like dwelling on those thoughts. If only because of all the gaps. The holes in his memory.] (But that's... good. Because I don't think I remember anything that clearly.)

[ Shiro's right - Sam will maintain otherwise. But he doesn't have to argue for Sam to know that Shiro isn't buying it, and there's only a moment before Sam modifies it.

For me. It's more than enough for me. The correction is wordless, but he sends the idea across their mental link all the same. ]

( Thank you. ) [ For worrying about him, he means. For thinking of that. He knows that it's what Shiro does, that he does it for damn near everyone and maybe Sam shouldn't take it so personal, it's just. It's hard not to when there aren't a lot of people Sam gets that from. ] ( I'm a hell of a lot better at it than when we first met. )

[ But that's not the point. ]

( It's okay. Start with what you do know, with what lead up to you getting taken, with what you remember during it, and what happened after? )

[Well. In a way, that's easier to accept than everyone taking him on as "enough". Everyone accepting it as "enough". When the last thing he remembers doing for the team amounts to letting them down. All of them.]

[He'll accept that, though, from Sam, if nothing else. And for now.]

(Getting better than me pretty quick.)

[He means it as a compliment. And there's no ire in the comment. Just a sort of admiration. And respect. The muted sensation of a sigh. His own hands pushing through his hair.]

(Nothing lead up to it. Nothing we could tell...) [Because they'd been so happy. Everything had been good. Cold -- space and fields of ice and the only human beings on an entire planet. Dry humor and what had to be the last time he'd seen Matt really smile.]

[He can't keep all that to himself. Of course it filters through. All of that, and the sudden, alien shape blocking out the stars.]

(They were just... there. Out of nowhere. We tried getting back to the ship but...)

[He trails off. Remembering searing light. Grabbing their hands and running. Pulling and shoving them ahead. And it hadn't done any good.]

( Spent a long time learning how, I just had to adjust things a little. )

[ Sam takes it for the compliment it is, and can't help but be just a little bit pleased by that respect. It's... nice, to feel that someone he cares about as much as he does Shiro thinks well of him.

But that's not the reason he's here, and Sam falls quiet as Shiro talks. There's the obvious sense through their mental link that he's listening, attention focused on what Shiro's saying - and even as he takes in the memories they call up, he lets them back go.

He breathes in, breathes out, and sinks more of himself into his connection with Shiro. Until he might as well be right there with him, hands laced together and his forehead pressed against Shiro's. Keeping him grounded, an anchor to remind him to stay here and not go back, even as he pulls up those memories. ]

( Keep going, sweetheart, you're doing good. )

[How can he think anything but good of Sam? Really? After everything they've been through so far? How can he think anything less?]

[It is obvious. And it's helpful. In its own way -- because wow, he doesn't want to talk about this. He hasn't ever wanted to talk about this. The others just stopped asking. Stopped probing. He was grateful for that too. But he wants the dreams to stop. Wants the flashes to stop.]

[Just focus on the other presence. Just talk.]

(I don't remember how they... took us. I just remember being there. Trying to get them to let us go. But they just dragged us all off.)

[There hadn't even been a chance to fight back. They'd all been overpowered. Caught off-guard. And the next thing he knew were prison walls and terror.]

[And then nothing. Just a blank.]

(... it must have been a long time. Before they split us all up for good. But I don't know. There's nothing there until... they took us to the arena.)

[His mental voice falters, there. The memory harsh and clear, sharp as broken glass against the blank space before it.]

[ Well. Most days Sam thinks pretty good of himself, too, even if there are still some off days, but that's not the point. The point is that Shiro thinks well of him. That a guy he cares about cares about him back.

Sometimes he's a little bit sappy.

He stays focused on Shiro as he keeps talking, breathing nice and even and letting it flow over their link to remind Shiro to do the same. Breathe, you're safe, I'm here even as he takes everything that Shiro's giving him and holds it tight, trying to take some of the weight, just a little.

When Shiro falters, Sam doesn't press right away. Instead there's the sensation of him squeezing Shiro's hands. ]

( Can you tell me five things you see in your room? )

(What-- Oh.)

[Right. Right, he remembers now. That strategy. He has to breathe first. Follow through with that first instruction.]

[If nothing else, he's good at following orders.]

(Sam, I... don't think there's... five things in my room.) [A sense of thready, weak humor. It's supposed to be funny. Not turning down or ignoring the suggestion. Just -- Shiro's other coping strategy.]

(Me. The... bed. Armor. Clothes. Old... coffee mug.) [Damn he needs to clean that up.]

[ It's supposed to be funny, and it is. Fortunately, he and Sam have very similar senses of humor, and he gives a quiet chuckle across the mental link.

Yeah, yeah, all right, funny guy. Sam's pretty sure that means it worked to get Shiro out of his head and back in the now, to break the chain before he could get completely caught up in the memory.

He squeezes Shiro's hands again, gently bringing them back to Shiro's re-telling. ]

( What happened in the arena? )

[He'll take that. The short little laugh. It's a nice break. A nice change from everything else pounding through his head. Like the ache at the back of his skull. Lack of sleep, probably.]

[Right. Retelling. He can do this. He's got this. For a moment, he thinks he does. Then Sam has to go and ask that.]

[What happened in the arena?]

[Cold settles hard in his chest. There's only one fight he remembers with any bit of clarity, but even that... What happened in the arena? What did happen? How many people did he What happened in the arena? What happened in the arena?]

[C H A M P I O N]

[Whispers coiling out from the ache in his head. His arm hurts. His hands flinch away from where Sam is holding them, in their minds. Before he can blurt out two words:]

(I won.)

[ With what he's already gotten from Shiro, Sam's expecting something really not good. It's not so much that he braces himself for it, because that'd imply that he feels like he needs to tense up to prepare, it's just... he takes in a few breaths, lets them out, reminds himself how to stay calm and let everything wash over him.

And it's a damn good thing, because he can feel the cold sweeping over Shiro, the uncertainty of what he doesn't know and the fear of what he does, of what that might mean-

Champion echoes in Sam's head, flashes of a fight and the whispers of people he doesn't know, and he reminds himself again to breath, lets them fade below the mist of his clouds.

Sam doesn't chase after Shiro when he pulls away. Instead he adjusts, focusing on their connection so he can curl around Shiro's mind, like a blanket settling over his shoulders - and if there's a brush of feathers, well, they're damn near always present in Sam's mental link. ]

( You survived. You did the only thing you could to protect your friend, to stay alive. )

[He's so tired of this. So... damn... tired of this. Of being afraid to talk about what he does remember, because it leads somewhere awful. Because he gets stuck. He can't pull himself out in time, before it's too late.]

[It doesn't help when he hears that word again. Echoed through Sam's mind and his own. Flickering and whispering. Until it feels like he's drowning in it. Like he can't breathe.]

[Even the reassurance feels dull. It feels flat. Like there are so many problems with what Sam is saying, he doesn't even know where to start.]

(I don't -- I don't know if he -- if --)

[If he was even still alive.]

[ Sam breathes, in to the count of four, hold for seven, out to the count of eight. He counts in his head - and Shiro's - as he does, letting the steady sound of his breathing echo across to prompt Shiro to breathe with him.

At least in his own mind, he can do something about this, and he lets the memories that Shiro'd shared with him and the words that try to stick fade, watching them sink below the clouds in his mind. ]

( Four things you can hear? )

[ Physically, he means, not in Shiro's head, but he's already made that distinction before and with their connection, he doesn't have to say if for the idea to make it across. ]

[Breathing. Breathe. Focus. Be focused and breathe. Just like they practiced. Anything to keep himself from losing it. From losing himself in his own brain and letting everything come out. Sliding backward.]

[So all the training he'd done would be in vain.]

[A shuddering feeling. But focus. Thinking. Listening.]

(I... can't hear anything. It's quiet...)

[In the room. It's too quiet in the room.]

[ Breathe, just breathe. Shiro can do this, Sam knows it.

Sam believes in him, completely. Not exactly a pressure that he has to do it, just a faith that he can. Maybe not now, maybe not every time, because no one's perfect, but he can. ]

( There's always something. The sound of your breathing, the rustle of sheets as you move, the hum of machinery. But maybe that's part of the problem, maybe you need white noise or music. )

[ Or someone else with him, but while Sam'd be more than happy to offer, he doesn't want Shiro to take it the wrong way. ]

(Yeah... yeah, maybe. Noise -- ship engines before. City. Other people.)

[All things he'd heard. In the castle, or Concordia. Or before all of this even began. Back on Earth. There were always other people you could hear. It always made you feel less alone in the world. On the planet.]

[In the stars.]

(This... make me one of those people who sleep with the TV on?)

[ There's a low chuckle across the mental link, a hum of acknowledgement. The sounds of life, the reminder that you weren't alone. There'd been times when it made Sam feel more alone than ever, wondering what was wrong with him that he couldn't be part of it like he used to, but more often than not it'd been a comfort. ]

( Nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. I used to be one of them. ) [ There's the tiniest hesitation, then, ] ( These days I can't sleep if I'm alone. )

(Is that why you started rooming with Clint?)

[There's no jealousy there. No judgment. Just curiosity. Because part of him wants an affirmative, just to know he's really, honestly, not alone here. Not alone with this weird tic.]

[But... then again... didn't Lance always sleep with headphones on, in the Castle? Maybe he hadn't ever been the only one.]

( That's why, yeah. Used to be I'd keep going until I was so tired I had no choice but to sleep, and I could hope I wouldn't dream that night. Then I learned better ways - did some deep breathing and progressive muscle relaxation before, practiced a set of grounding tools so much that it was habit when I woke up from one, had music playing. Talked about shit. I had a routine that was pretty damn adaptable. I'll get back to it, just... right now I feel better having someone watching my back. )

[ Something that started before coming to the Station, back in the Raft, but it's only been worse since arriving here.

And that's a little more than he's shared with anyone else - a lot more - but it's Shiro. Sam trusts him, and he wants Shiro to know that he's not alone. ]

(Wow. No wonder you're always on my case about sleeping.)

[There's that flat humor again. He hadn't known. Maybe he'd have been able to listen better, to accept the advice better. There's a weird sense of guilt, flickering around his thoughts, even if he's not sure why exactly he feels it.]

(... do you need it to be the same person, always?)

[Maybe you can see where he's going here, Sam.]

( Sleep's important, man, everything's a million times harder when you're running on empty. And you're a million times crankier. )

[ He teases back, picking up on that humor with ease. It's something they both have in common, and it's easier than trying to figure out what that guilt he can feel is for, or even if it's Shiro's or his own. But he sobers a little at Shiro's question. ]

( No. But there ain't a lot of people here I trust like that. ) [ Four, pretty much, just Clint, Steve, Bucky, and Shiro himself. But Sam doesn't have to say that for the understanding of who they are to make it across their mental link, and he hopes he knows where Shiro'd been going with that. ] ( And I'd mean it in a different way, with you. )

(Yeah. I know. Or you just fall asleep wherever you sit down next.)

[Said from experience. Multiple experiences. But then they're moving on, changing topics slightly. Which is fine with him. Easier than getting too into certain issues. Or certain moments of falling asleep, or slipping out of time, mentally.]

(You'd trust me differently in your ... room... with you, at night?)

[There's a slip there, a mental image of more than just a room. A bed. The thought of room-bed-in-bed trailing through the words. He'd... been offering that. Both of those things. Combined together.]

[ There's a brief, low chuckle - because yeah, Sam's had that experience, too. It's not a fun one, and it's another reason why Sam's been so invested in getting Shiro to sleep more. ]

( I'm saying sleeping with you'd mean something different to me than it does with Clint. I'd want something different. ) [ There's a pause, then, because he's learned to be as clear as possible with Shiro, he keeps going. ] ( Not necessarily sex, all right, I know we're taking this slow. But not just watching each other's backs so we can sleep better. )

[ Not that it's just that with Clint any more, either, considering how much he and Clint are in each other's heads, but it's still very different than how it'd be with Shiro. ]

[Hey, at least they can both relate to it. As unfortunate as it may be. It's not something he'd really wish on anyone.]

[It takes him a while to answer. If only because he's doing his best to figure out how to answer. What he wants to say. He's got to make this right, doesn't he? Say the right thing. Say it so what he actually means comes out, instead of anything else.]

(All right, so part of me is a little flattered, I'll admit, that when I ask about "something different" your first thought is... well. That.)

[Honesty and all.]

(Can I ask what you'd want? So I've got a better idea.) [He hesitates again, thinking his words through again.] (I guess I'm asking all this so we're on the same page if we do this.)

[He's got no frame of reference, honestly. Not for this. And that much is open to Sam. A blank space, filled up only with whatever the media wanted people to think of as "normal".]

[ There's a lot of somewhat unfortunate things that they can both relate to, it seems. It's not something that Sam'd wish on anyone, either, but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't something that'd drawn him to Shiro from the very beginning.

It still helps knowing you're not alone.

Sam's patient, especially after dropping something like that, and he waits, giving Shiro time to pull together his thoughts. Then there's the impression of a soft smile and a flare of warmth. ]

( You're an attractive guy, all right, and I'm pretty into you. )

[ But then it's Sam's turn to pause to think. For a moment he's stuck on the rush of affection for Shiro, on being able to do this with him - communicate so damn openly.

In the end, what he's thinking slips out before he can figure out how to put it to words. The impression of sharing a bed, legs tangled together and wrapped in each other's arms, waking up in the morning to trade sleepy kisses, falling asleep doing the same. ]

INHALE, EXHALE guilt. regret. the truth. figure out how to live with it.	COURAGE that others may live. whatever it takes.
LOYALTY respect. trust. never ending sass.	SOAR step 1: kick ass step 2: fly away

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