Who: Sam and Chase What: Reunions Where: Caesars Shoppes When: Recently Warnings/Rating: No
Chase had no idea what had come over him, this was the stupidest thing he’d ever done in his life. Something sentimental about wanting to see someone, somewhere, who knew him. Who knew his life. Who remembered the kid he’d been once. And if she recognized him, if she let it get out, he’d have to leave Las Vegas and go to ground and start all over again. No one knew who he really was and he liked it that way, he needed it to be that way. But the part of him that was still an idiotic kid called Steven took over in that poorly thought out moment and reached out.
It would have been easy not to show up at all, in fact he wasn’t going to. Then it went from standing her up to just showing up close enough to see her. He was watching from a distance, chain smoking and wondering when she’d show up. If he’d know her. He was half concerned that if he knew her she’d know him immediately. He’d changed a lot, he was bigger, taller, rougher, he looked different but somehow he wondered if he looked as different as he felt all the way down to his bones.
Before he could really stop himself he was making his way to where he was supposed to meet her. So much for just “watching.” He was dressed in a pair of ripped jeans, frayed around the cuff and a black tee shirt. His blonde hair hanging in his face. He was off work that day, no need to pull it back neatly, no need to wear the tie and the slacks. His face was unshaven, moreso than it usually was, but it all served a purpose.
Sam was starting to think of this whole "meeting strangers in unusual places" as a weird kind of therapy. Each time she did it, she panicked less, and she needed to drug up less beforehand. Too, now she knew what the fucker from the hotel looked like, so there was no chance of her meeting him by mistake. Yeah, it was definitely getting easier, and for the first time in months she felt like maybe she could overcome this shit. Maybe, just maybe, it would be ok.
Then there was the fact that this guy was connected to Steven. Steven, who she'd crushed on so fucking hard that it had even taken away the hunger pains from the starving girl she had been Steven, who had come way before James, who she had always secretly hoped would marrry her and bring her into his rich house to live. Sure, they'd been little kids, and marriage back then involved a cookie-ring and a kiss on the cheek, but she was willing to go there if it meant she could have real cereal for breakfast, the kind that came in a box instead of a bag, with milk that actually spent some fucking time in a cow before ending up in her bowl. She'd been so stupid then, so fucking stupid, she realized. Even with the hunger pains, she missed those days.
So, she went to the crowded shopping center outside Caesars, and she sat on some fountain with some Greek god at her back, and she waited. She knew something was weird with this guy, this Chase, that something was up, but she didn't think it was "throw her in the back of an unmarked van" weird. It was something else. She was dressed in loose jeans and a blue work shirt that proclaimed her name was "Sammy," and she had her iPods tucked in her ears. She had no fucking idea who she was looking for, but she was somehow sure she would know it once she saw it.
Chase noticed the girl sitting on the fountain and she had the look of someone who was waiting for someone. He watched her for just a bit before he decided it was her. He was a bit concerned Sam might not know who she was supposed to be looking for, but Steven was fresh on her mind, since this "Chase" guy had mentioned him and all. And so, she was still thinking about him when she followed the path from cigarette murder to legs to face, and she was looking up by the time the blond stopped in front of her.
Now, it had been fucking years. They had been kids, and she probably wouldn't have even that if he recognized her that fast what that would mean for him. Then again, he knew who he was looking for. She wasn’t looking for the kid she’d known.
He turned to leave, and then changed his mind. Again. He threw his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out as he walked towards her. He sauntered up to her and sat down on the edge of the fountain close enough to be noticed but not close enough to be awkward. He looked at her name tag and nodded at her. “I’m Chase.”
She never would have suspected it was him, if it wasn't for that memory thing. Sure, he was tall and blond, but so much fucking time had passed. But, yeah, she was thinking of Steven, and her inky blue eyes narrowed slightly, before she settled her gaze on the hand that had held the cigarette. Oh, yeah, she had her suspicions, but she didn't say anything.
"Got another one of those?" she asked instead, motioning to the cigarette he'd stubbed out.
Chase dug into his pocket and pulled a half crumpled pack of Marlboro reds out of his pocket and handed one over and lit a match for her and then he went ahead and lit himself one just because damn...This was going to be weird. “So...”
She took one, and she lit it, and she quirked a brow as she looked up at him. "Yeah?" She blew smoke up at him, and that smile on her face, the one that tipped up after she exhaled, was entertained. "So. feel like telling me about Chase?" she asked innocently. Yeah, innocently.
“Not much to tell I’m afraid. I’m from New York. I live in Vegas now, I walk the floor looking menacing for the MGM, and I hate this fucking heat,” he said taking a drag of his cigarette and staring down at the ground. It was easier than looking directly at her, but he couldn’t help the corners of his mouth from turning up just slightly as he spoke. This was such fucking bad news.
"Yeah? Are you good at looking menacing?" she asked, because he wasn't fucking menacing, not even with that hair on his face. Each gesture reminded her more and more of the boy she'd known, and the corners of his mouth tipping up sealed the fucking deal. Why he was hiding, she had no idea, and she wasn't going to pop his bubble. "And if you hate the heat, why are you here, Chase? Playing to your headcase?"
Well that was a loaded question, the amount of blood on his hands was a testament to it, but she didn’t seem overly worried. “Shockingly so, but I’m off the clock now,” he said finally looking up and over at her squinting his eyes in the sun.
“My headcase does not need to be played to unfortunately, I don’t think I’m in charge much at all. But no, I came here looking for work. Heard it was a good place to find some. The headcase was, apparently, a fringe benefit they didn’t mention on the brochure.”
"You don't look very menacing, baby," she assured him, blissfully unaware of the invisible blood on his hands. "I was here before the headcase, and the weather was still terrible," she informed him with a tip of her head and a long drag off the cigarette. She exhaled slowly, giving him enough time to come clean if he wanted to, and then she patted the ledge of the fountain, so that he could sit his ass down beside her. "So, tell me about Steven."
“I’m not trying to,” he said with a soft laugh, a real one. “Well good to know it’s consistent at the least.” He smoked his cigarette in silence for a moment before sitting down and when she asked about Steven he didn’t know really what to say. Probably what anyone was supposed to know. “I dunno, his dad got into some legal trouble, then both of his parents were killed and he and his sister disappeared. It all happened fast.” Too fast. He didn’t like remembering that day, but he did. He remembered it every single day of his life. It was why he did what he did. It was everything that was part of him now. It defined him.
She swiveled on the marble edge of the fountain's base, and she gave him a look that said seriously? "What? You can't be fucking serious. What kind of legal trouble? What how did your parents die? When? And where the fuck is your sister?" Because, yeah, that information had shocked every last bit of fucking pretense out of her. "Are you safe?" was the next thing out of her mouth, asked as she guilty looked around them. "Here, I mean? Are you safe here?" Yeah, panic kicked into high gear.
The outburst was not expected. Instinct kicked in and his eyes darted around. “Sam, quiet please,” he said almost pleading. The pretense was gone, there was no point in arguing it just to keep her from calling him out loudly in front of everyone. As much as he complained about the heat he did not want to leave this town. Not yet.
He spoke quietly but firmly and looked her in the eye as he spoke. Tempted to drag her back to his apartment and only then tell her everything but he doubted that would go over so well. So he spoke as candidly, and as quickly as he could. “I’m safe, I’m plenty safe. No one has any clue who the hell I am and what the hell I know. I don’t know where my sister is, I haven’t seen her in more than a decade. The feds came, they saw, my dad talked, we were supposed to go to ground but they got him before we could. I panicked and ran, I hope my sister wasn’t that stupid. But I need you to forget all of this, I’m just some dude alright?” Jesus it felt good to say all of that. He didn’t know if he could trust her, but he figured he’d find out soon enough if he couldn’t, then he’d just run again. And start over somewhere else. But someone knew him. Someone knew all of him.
She stared. She just fucking stared for a good ten seconds, and they felt like they went on forever. "Shit." And then more quiet, because Sam's life was fucked up, and her family was fucked up and, sure, she'd encountered Mr. Dick & Knife in the kitchen of a hotel, but that was nothing compared to this. She remembered Steven's family as untouchable, and she still remembered standing on her bare tiptoes in the flowerbed outside their living room window, watching the family inside like they were the one thing she wanted for herself in her entire life. She couldn't believe those people were gone. She couldn't believe that anything could touch them. "Shit."
And then she did something she hadn't willingly done since the scene at the hotel; she leaned forward, and she hugged him.
Chase hadn’t been hugged, well he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged at all. Sex was not the same thing. He stiffened slightly, but she did have it right. Shit. He patted her back gently, and was surprised that he even remembered how. “It’s all right, Sam,” he said after a moment. It was far from all right, nothing was right about his situation but he was used to it. “I looked for you, I didn’t find you, but I did look. After I ran.”
"Fucker," she muttered against his shoulder. "I'm comforting you, not the other way around." She pulled back, and she looked into his face. "You aren't supposed to tell me that it's alright, not when it's your world that fell apart." She shook her head. "You know us. We moved all over. Another month, another eviction. By the time I made it back you were gone, and I figured you'd moved somewhere bigger and richer." She did shove his shoulder then, a hard shove with the heel of her palm that was entirely Sam. "I missed you," she said, because the shove made it ok to, you know, use feeling words.
Chase grinned at her, an honest to goodness grin, and he shrugged. “I meant I’m all right. It’s not ideal, but I’m all right, no comfort needed. But I appreciate it.” He listened to her and nodded, he had grown very accustomed to moving around. “No, somewhere dirtier and poorer, I got a bit better. But it was rough for a while, I wasn’t exactly born to wander the streets but it’s amazing how adaptable you wind up being.” He laughed when she shoved him and he sighed. “Me too, Sam. I missed you too, it’s nice to see a familiar face, that also finds my face familiar. It’s been a long time.”
"I decide if comfort needs to be fucking given," Sam insisted, but she sighed and took another drag of the cigarette that had practically ashed itself out. "So that memory, the one about being hungry, it really was yours," she said, and it wasn't a question; it was a statement. "No bullshitting me anymore, so don't even try it." She sighed. "How bad is this? I mean, are they still looking for you? And do you know who they fucking are?"
“Yes ma’am,” he said with a smile. He nodded, “I would assume so, I went hungry for a long time before I figured things out. I had a couple of people help me along the way, more people screwed me than helped, but it was all a learning experience I guess.” Her next question was loaded and he sighed and went quiet for a long time, “They’re not looking for Steven, I don’t think they’ve given that kid a second thought. But I haven’t exactly made many friends since I had that name either. I know who they are, I know what they did, I know what they’re still doing, and the less you know about all of those things the better.”
Sam didn't like any of those fucking things, and she sure as fuck didn't like that fucking answer. "Ok, what are we talking here? How much shit are you in, baby?"
He tilted his head a bit, this was why this was all a terrible idea. He knew (whether he admitted it or not) that she’d recognize him. He knew that she’d want to know what the hell he had been up to. And here he was, a man with dozens of identities, twice as many go-to backstories, and he was just so damn to have someone familiar he was flapping his gums like a teenage girl. “I’m not in any shit, Sam. I’m here finding some work, trying to get my shit together, I don’t think it’s any level of shit at all,” for the moment.
"Don't ever call me ma'am again," she added belatedly, but whatever. She groaned, sighed, and just generally didn't believe the shit he was feeding her, but there wasn't much she could do to get the truth out of him. He was here, changed named, new identity, and who the fuck knew what on his tail. It was a lot to fucking process. "You're in shit," she said, because that summed it up. A sigh, and she settled on the ledge comfortably and slid closer to him. Her head found his shoulder, and she muttered a quiet "fuck," because why wasn't anyone she knew totally fucking fantastic lately? Somewhere, someone must be just having the best day of their life, but it clearly wasn't here. "Buy me a cheeseburger?" Because that was at least old times, right? Yeah. She'd fucking take it, until he told her what was really up.